HONORABLE 

SENATOR 
/    E-BRUSH 


^  :      : 


BOOKS  BY  FRANCIS  LYNDE 

PUBLISHED  BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


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THE   HONORABLE 
SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 


He's  taken  our  retainer!"  snapped  the  vice-president 


THE  HONORABLE 
SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 


BY 
FRANCIS   LYNDE 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
NEW    YORK     :     :     :     :     :     1913 


COPYRIGHT,  1913,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  September,  1913 


TO  MR.  GEORGE  ADY 

My  Regius  Professor  in  the  School  of 
Western  Railroading,  and  himself  a  keen 
observer,  in  situ,  of  the  conditions  which 
I  have  herein  sought  to  portray,  this 
book  is  most  affectionately  inscribed. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


M18053 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID  "No" 3 

II.  THE  Boss 26 

III.  A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES     ....  40 

IV.  THE  HIGHBINDERS      56 

V.  AT  WARTRACE  HALL 69 

VI.  ON  THE  WING  OF  OCCASIONS 86 

VII.  A  BATTLE  ROYAL 96 

VIII.  THE  QUEEN'S  GAMBIT no 

IX.  THE  RANK  AND  FILE 121 

X.  IN  THE  HERBARIUM 138 

XI.  THE  GREAT  GAME      148 

XII.  A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT    ....  165 

XIII.  THE  LIEGEMAN 178 

XIV.  BARRIERS  INVISIBLE 193 

XV.  SWORD-PLAY 203 

XVI.  THE  SAFE-BLOWER     . 213 

XVII.  ON  THE  KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH  GODS     .    .  230 

XVIII.  THE  CHASM 241 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX.  A  COG  IN  THE  WHEEL     256 

XX.  A  STONE  FOR  BREAD 264 

XXI.  THE  UNDER-DOG 280 

XXII.  THE  ICONOCLAST 293 

XXIII.  A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT 302 

XXIV.  FIELD  HEADQUARTERS 320 

XXV.  BLOOD  AND  IRON 327 

XXVI.  APPLES  or  GOLD 343 

XXVII.  IN  WHICH  PATRICIA  DRIVES 356 

XXVIII.  THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES      367 

XXIX.  AT  SHONOHO  INN 379 

XXX.  THE  RECKONING 390 

XXXI.  A  LA  BONNE  HEURE 407 


THE   HONORABLE 
SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 


THE   HONORABLE   SENATOR 
<  SAGE-BRUSH 

I 
BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO" 

SOME  one  was  giving  a  dinner  dance  at  the  coun 
try  club,  and  Blount,  who  was  a  week-end  guest  of 
the  Beverleys,  was  ill-natured  enough  to  be  resent 
ful.  What  right  had  a  gay  and  frivolous  world  to 
co.me  and  thrust  its  light-hearted  happiness  upon 
him  when  Patricia  had  said  "No"?  It  was  like 
bullying  a  cripple,  he  told  himself  morosely,  and 
when  he  had  read  the  single  telegram  which  had 
come  while  he  was  at  dinner  he  begged  Mrs.  Bev- 
erley's  indulgence  and  went  out  to  find  a  chair  in  a 
corner  of  the  veranda  where  the  frivolities  had  not 
as  yet  intruded. 

It  was  a  North  Shore  night  like  that  in  which 
Shakespeare  has  mingled  moon-shadows  with  the 
gossamer  fantasies  of  the  immortal  "Dream." 
Though  the  dance  was  in-doors,  the  trees  on  the 
lawn  and  the  road-fronting  verandas  of  the  club 
house  were  hung  with  festoons  of  Chinese  lanterns. 
At  the  carriage-entrance  smart  automobiles  were 

3 


4     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

coming  and  going,  and  one  of  them,  with  the  dust 
of  the  Boston  parkways  on  its  running-gear,  brought 
the  guests  of  honor — three  daughters  of  a  Western 
senator  lately  home  from  their  summer  abroad. 

Blount  knew  neither  the  honorers  nor  the  hon 
ored  ones,  and  had  resolutely  refused  the  chance 
offered  him  by  Mrs.  Beverley  to  amend  his  igno 
rance.  For  Patricia's  "No"  was  not  yet  twenty- 
four  hours  old,  and  since  it  had  changed  the  stars 
in  their  courses  for  Patricia's  lover,  the  cataclysm 
was  much  too  recent  to  postulate  anything  like  a 
return  of  the  heavenly  bodies  to  their  normal  orbits. 

Not  that  Blount  put  it  that  way,  either  to  Mrs. 
Beverley  or  to  himself.  He  was  a  level-eyed,  square- 
shouldered  young  man  of  an  up-to-date  world,  and 
the  stock  from  which  he  sprang  was  prosaic  and 
practical  rather  than  poetic  or  sentimental.  But 
the  fact  remained,  and  when  he  sat  back  in  his 
corner  absently  folding  the  lately  received  telegram 
into  a  narrow  spill  and  scowling  moodily  down  upon 
the  coming  and  going  procession  of  motor-cars  he 
was  unconsciously  giving  a  very  life-like  imitation 
of  the  disappointed  lover  the  world  over. 

It  was  thus,  and  apparently  by  the  merest  chance, 
that  Gantry  found  him;  a  chance  because  the  Win- 
nebasset  club-house  is  spacious  and  the  dinner  dance 
minimized  the  hazards  of  a  meeting  between  two 
unattached  men  who  were  merely  transient  guests. 
But  the  railroad  man  at  least  was  unfeignedly  glad. 

"Doesn't  it  beat  the  dickens  what  a  little  world 
this  is?"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  true  bromidian  dis- 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID  "NO"  5 

regard  for  the  outworn  and  the  axiomatic.  "Of 
course,  I  knew  you  were  in  or  around  Boston  some 
where,  but  to  run  slap  up  against  you  here,  when 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  in  it  for  me  but  to  be 
bored  stiff — "  He  stopped  short,  finding  it  difficult 
to  be  shiftily  insincere  with  as  old  a  friend  as  Evan 
Blount.  But  in  the  nature  of  things  it  was  baldly 
impossible  to  tell  Blount  that  the  meeting  was  not 
accidental. 

"Pull  up  a  chair  and  sit  down,"  said  Blount,  not 
too  ungraciously,  considering  his  just  cause  to  be 
more  ungracious.  "I  was  thinking  of  you  a  little 
while  ago,  Dick.  I  saw  your  name  in  the  list  of 
Transcontinental  representatives  to  the  traffic  meet 
ing  in  Boston,  and — well,  at  the  present  moment 
I'm  not  sure  but  you  are  the  one  man  in  the  world 
I  wanted  most  to  meet." 

"Say!  that  sounds  pretty  good  to  me,"  laughed 
Gantry,  settling  himself  comfortably  in  a  lazy-chair 
and  feeling  in  his  pockets  for  a  cigar.  "I've  been 
in  Boston  the  full  week,  skating  around  over  the 
chilly  crust  of  things  and  never  able  to  get  so  much 
as  one  tenuous  little  social  claw-hold.  Say,  Evan, 
how  many  ice-plants  does  that  impenetrable  old 
town  keep  going  ever  count  'em?" 

"Boston  is  all  right  when  you  know  it — or,  rather, 
when  it  comes  to  know  you,"  returned  Blount,  re 
membering  that  Boston  or  Cambridge — which  is 
Boston  in  the  process  of  elucidation — was  the  birth 
and  dwelling  place  of  Patricia. 

Gantry  grinned  broadly  and  lighted  his  cigar. 


6     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"The  'effete  East'  has  psychically  and  psycholog 
ically  corralled  you,  hasn't  it,  Evan? — to  put  it  in 
choice  Bostonese.  I  thought  maybe  it  would  when 
I  heard  you  were  taking  the  post-graduate  frills  in 
the  Harvard  Law  School.  By  the  way,  how  much 
longer  are  you  in  for?" 

"I  am  out  of  the  Law  School,  if  that  is  what  you 
mean — out  and  admitted  to  the  bar,"  said  Blount. 
"If  you  get  into  trouble  with  the  Boston  police  let 
me  know,  and  I'll  ask  for  a  change  of  venue  to  the 
greasewood  hills  and  Judge  Lynch' s  court." 

"The  good  old  greasewood  hills!"  chanted  Gan 
try,  who  was  of  those  who  curse  their  homeland  to 
its  face  and  praise  it  consistently  and  pugnaciously 
elsewhere.  "Are  you  ever  coming  back  to  them, 
Blount?  I  believe  you  told  me  once,  in  the  old 
college  days,  that  you  were  Western-born." 

"I  told  you  the  truth;  and  until  to-night  I  have 
never  thought  much  about  going  back,"  was  Blount's 
rather  enigmatic  reply. 

"But  now  you  are  thinking  of  it?"  inquired  the 
railroad  man,  waking  up.  "That's  good;  the  old 
Sage-brush  State  is  needing  a  few  bright  young 
lawyers  mighty  bad.  Is  that  why  I'm  the  par 
ticular  fellow  you  wanted  to  meet?" 

Blount  passed  the  telegram  which  had  come  while 
he  was  at  dinner  across  the  interval  between  the 
two  chairs.  "Read  that,"  he  said. 

Gantry  smoothed  the  square  of  yellow  paper  care 
fully  and  held  it  up  to  the  softened  glow  of  the  elec 
tric  ceiling-globe.  Its  date-line  carried  the  name  of 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID  "NO"  7 

his  own  city  in  the  "greasewood  country" — the  cap 
ital  of  the  State — and  the  tune-markings  sufficiently 
indicated  its  recent  arrival.  Below  the  date-line  he 
read: 

To  EVAN  SHELBY  BLOUNT, 

Standish  Apartments,  Boston. 

You  have  had  everything  that  money  could  buy,  and 
you  owe  me  nothing  but  an  occasional  sight  of  your  face. 
If  you  are  not  tied  to  some  woman's  apron-string,  why 
can't  you  come  West  and  grow  up  with  your  native  State? 

DAVID  BLOUNT. 

It  was  characteristic  of  Richard  Gantry,  light- 
handed  juggler  of  friendly  phrases,  but  none  the 
less  a  careful  and  methodical  official  of  a  great  rail 
way  company,  that  he  folded  the  telegram  in  the 
original  creases  before  he  passed  it  back. 

"Well?"  said  Blount,  when  the  pause  had  grown 
over-abundantly  long. 

"I  was  just  thinking,"  was  the  reflective  rejoinder. 
"We  used  to  be  fairly  chummy  in  the  old  Ann  Arbor 
days,  Evan,  and  yet  I  never,  until  a  few  days  ago, 
knew  or  guessed  that  Senator  Blount  was  your 
father." 

"He  was  and  is,"  was  the  quiet  reply.  "I  sup 
posed  everybody  knew  it." 

"/  didn't,"  Gantry  denied,  adding:  "You  may 
not  realize  it,  but  what  you  don't  tell  people  about 
yourself  would  make  a  pretty  big  book  if  it  were 
printed." 

Blount's  smile  was  altogether  friendly. 


8     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"What's  the  use,  Richard?"  he  asked.  "The 
world  has  plenty  of  banalities  and  commonplaces 
without  the  adding  of  any  man's  personal  contri 
bution.  Why  should  I  bore  you  or  anybody?" 

"Oh,  of  course,  if  you  put  it  on  that  ground," 
said  the  railroad  traffic  manager.  "Just  the  same, 
there's  another  side  to  it.  In  an  unguarded  mo 
ment,  back  in  the  college  days,  as  I  have  said,  you 
admitted  to  me  that  you  were  Western-born.  I  al 
ways  supposed  afterward  that  you  regretted  either 
the  fact  or  the  mention  of  it,  since  you  never  told 
me  any  more." 

"Perhaps  I  didn't  tell  more  because  there  was  so 
little  to  tell.  I  had  a  boyhood  like  other  boys— 
or,  no,  possibly  it  wasn't  quite  the  usual.  I  was 
born  on  the  '  Circle-Bar,'  when  the  ranch  was — as  it 
still  is,  I  believe — a  hard  day's  drive  for  a  bunch 
of  prime  steers  distant  from  the  nearest  shipping- 
corral  on  the  railroad.  At  twelve  I  could  '  ride  line,' 
'cut  out,'  and  'rope  down'  like  any  other  healthy 
ranch-bred  youngster,  and  since  the  capital  was  at 
that  time  only  in  process  of  getting  itself  surveyed 
and  boomed  into  existence  I  had  never  seen  a  town 
bigger  than  Painted  Hat." 

"And  what  happened  when  you  were  twelve?" 
queried  Gantry.  He  was  not  abnormally  curious, 
but  Blount's  communicative  mood  was  unusual 
enough  to  warrant  a  quickening  of  interest. 

"The  greatest  possible  misfortune  that  can  ever 
come  to  a  half-grown  boy,  Dick — my  mother 
died." 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO"  9 

Gantry's  own  boyhood  was  not  so  deeply  buried 
in  the  past  as  to  make  him  forgetful  of  its  joys  and 
sorrows.  "That  was  hard — mighty  hard,"  he  as 
sented.  Then:  "And  pretty  soon  your  father  mar 
ried  again?" 

"Not  for  some  years,"  Blount  qualified.  "But 
for  me  the  heavens  were  fallen.  I  was  sent  away 
to  school,  to  college,  to  Europe;  then  I  came  here 
to  the  Law  School.  In  all  that  time  I've  never 
seen  the  ' Circle-Bar'  or  my  native  State — in  fact, 
I  have  never  been  west  of  Chicago." 

Gantry  was  astonished  and  he  admitted  it  in  ex 
clamatory  phrase.  As  a  railroad  man,  continent- 
crossing  travel  was  to  him  the  merest  matter  of 
course.  Though  he  might  Sunday-over  at  the  Win- 
nebasset  Country  Club  on  the  North  Shore,  it  was 
well  within  the  possibilities  that  the  following  week 
end  might  find  him  sweltering  in  New  Orleans  or 
buttoning  his  overcoat  against  the  raw  evening  fogs 
of  San  Francisco. 

"Never  been  west  of  Chicago?"  he  echoed. 
"Never  been—  He  stopped  short,  beginning  to 
realize  vaguely  that  there  must  be  strong  reasons; 
reasons  which  might  lie  beyond  the  pale  of  a  college 
friendship,  and  the  confidences  begotten  thereby,  in 
the  rendering  of  them. 

"No,"  said  Blount. 

"Then  the  senator's — that  is — er — your  father's 
political  life  has  never  touched  you." 

The  friendly  smile  rippled  again  at  the  corners  of 
Blount's  steady  gray  eyes,  but  this  time  it  was  shot 


io     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

through  with  a  faint  suggestion  of  the  Blount  grim- 
ness. 

"It  has  touched  me  on  the  sympathetic  side,  Dick. 
I  saw  a  large-hearted,  open-handed  old  cattle-king 
wading  good-naturedly  into  the  muddy  stream  of 
politics  to  gratify  an  ambition  that  wasn't  at  'all 
his  own — a  woman's  ambition.  In  order  that  the 
woman  might  mix  and  mingle  in  Washington  society 
for  a  brief  minute  or  two,  he  got  himself  elected  to 
fill  out  an  unexpired  term  of  two  months  in  the 
United  States  Senate — bought  the  election,  some 
said.  That  was  three  years  ago,  wasn't  it? — a  long 
time,  as  political  incidents  or  accidents  go.  But 
Washington  hasn't  forgotten.  When  I  was  down 
there  last  winter  the  five-o'clock-tea  people  were 
still  recalling  Mrs.  Blount's  gowns  and  the  wild- 
Western  naivete  of  'The  Honorable  Senator  Sage- 
Brush.'" 

Gantry  was  chuckling  softly  when  the  half-bitter 
admission  had  got  itself  fully  made. 

"Land  of  love,  Evan!"  he  said,  "you  may  be  an 
educated  post-graduate  all  right,  with  the  proper 
Boston  degree  of  culture  laid  on  and  rubbed  down 
to  a  hard-glaze  finish,  but  you've  got  a  lot  to  learn 
yet — about  the  senator  and  his  politics,  I  mean. 
Why,  Great  Snipes,  man!  he  isn't  in  it  a  little  bit 
for  the  social  frills  and  furbelows;  he  never  was. 
Let  me  intimate  a  few  things:  Politically  speaking, 
David  Blount  is  by  long  odds  the  biggest  man  in 
his  State  to-day.  He  can  have  anything  he  wants, 
from  the  head  of  the  ticket  down.  You  spoke  rather 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID  "NO"  II 

contemptuously  just  now  of  his  two  months  in  the 
Senate;  you  probably  didn't  know  that  he  might 
have  gone  back  if  he  had  wanted  to;  that  he  actu 
ally  did  a  much  more  difficult  thing — named  his 


successor." 


David  Blount's  son  stood  up  and  put  his  shoul 
ders  against  one  of  the  veranda  pillars.  From  the 
new  view-point  he  could  look  through  the  reading- 
room  windows  and  on  into  the  assembly-room  where 
the  dancers  were  keeping  time  to  the  measures  of  a 
two-step.  But  he  was  not  thinking  of  the  dancers 
when  he  said: 

"It's  a  sheer  miracle,  Dick,  your  dropping  down 
here  to-night  like  the  deus  ex  machina  of  the  old 
Greek  plays.  You've  read  this  telegram" — hold 
ing  up  the  folded  message — "it  is  just  possible  that 
you  can  tell  me  what  lies  behind  it.  Why  has  my 
father  sent  it  at  this  particular  time  and  in  those 
words?  He  knows  perfectly  well  that  my  plans  for 
settling  here  in  Boston  were  definitely  made  more 
than  a  year  ago." 

"I  can  tell  you  the  situation  out  in  the  grease- 
wood  country,  if  that's  what  you  want  to  know," 
said  Gantry  after  a  thoughtful  pause. 

"Make  it  simple,"  was  Blount's  condition,  adding: 
"What  I  don't  know  about  the  business  or  the  polit 
ical  situation  in  the  West  would  fill  a  much  larger 
book  than  the  one  you  were  speaking  of  a  few  min 
utes  ago." 

"'  Business  or  political,'  you  say;  they  are  Siam 
ese  twins  nowadays,"  returned  the  railroad  man,  with 


12     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

a  short  laugh.  Then:  " The  outlook  for  us  out  yon 
der  in  the  greasewood  hills  is  precisely  what  it  is  in  a 
dozen  other  States  this  year — east,  west,  north  and 
south — everything  promising  a  renewal  of  the  un 
reasoning,  bull-headed  legislative  fight  against  the 
railroads.  I  suppose  our  own  case  is  typical.  As 
everybody  knows,  the  Transcontinental  Railway  has 
practically  created  two-thirds  of  the  States  through 
which  it  passes — made  them  out  of  whole  cloth. 
Where  you  left  sage-brush  and  bare  hills  and  un- 
fenced  cattle  ranges  a  dozen  years  ago  you  will  now 
find  irrigation,  tilled  farms,  orchards,  rich  mines — 
development  everywhere,  with  a  rapidly  growing 
population  to  help  it  along.  To  make  all  this  pos 
sible,  the  railroad  took  a  chance;  it  was  a  mighty 
long  chance,  and  somebody  has  to  pay  the  bills." 

"I  know,"  smiled  Blount;  "the  bill-paying  is 
summed  up  in  some  railroad  man's  clever  phrase, 
'all  the  tariff  the  traffic  will  stand.'  I  can  remem 
ber  one  year  when  my  father  rose  up  in  his  wrath 
and  drove  his  beef  cattle  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
across  the  Transcontinental  tracks  to  the  Overland 
Central." 

"That  was  in  the  old  days,"  protested  Gantry, 
who  was  loyal  to  his  salt.  "As  the  State  has  filled 
up,  we've  tried  to  meet  the  situation  half-way,  as  a 
straight  business  proposition.  Fares  and  tariffs  have 
been  lowered  from  time  to  time,  and— 

"You  are  not  making  it  simple  enough  by  half," 
warned  Blount  quizzically.  "You  are  getting  fur 
ther  away  from  my  telegram  every  minute." 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID  "NO"  13 

Gantry  paused  to  relight  his  cigar. 

"I  don't  know  how  your  telegram  figures  in  it 
specially,  but  I  do  know  this:  the  legislature  to  be 
elected  this  fall  in  our  State  will  be  chosen  entirely 
without  regard  to  the  old  party  lines.  There  is  only 
one  issue  before  the  people  and  that  is  the  Trans 
continental  Railway.  The  '  Paramounters/  as  they 
call  themselves,  taking  the  name  from  the  assump 
tion  that  it  is  the  paramount  duty  of  the  voter  to 
pinch  any  business  interest  bigger  than  his  own, 
would  like  to  legislate  us  out  of  existence;  as  against 
that  we  shall  beat  the  tomtom  and  do  our  level 
best  to  stay  on  top  of  earth." 

"Naturally,"  Blount  agreed,  then  half -absently, 
and  with  his  eyes  still  resting  upon  the  merrymak 
ers  twirling  like  paired  automatons  in  the  distant 
assembly-room:  "And  my  father — how  does  he 
stand?" 

"The  idea  of  your  having  to  ask  me  how  the 
senator  stands  in  his  own  State!"  exclaimed  Gan 
try.  "But  really,  Evan,  I'd  give  a  good  bit  of  hard 
cash  to  be  able  to  tell  you  in  so  many  words  just 
where  he  does  stand.  There  are  a  good  many  people 
in  our  neck  of  woods  who  would  like  mighty  well  to 
know.  It  will  make  all  the  difference  in  the  world 
when  it  comes  to  a  show-down." 

"Why  will  it?" 

"Because,  apart  from  the  railroad  and  the  anti- 
railroad  factions,  there  is  a  very  complete  and 
smoothly  running  machine  organization." 

"And  my  father  is  identified  with  the  machine?" 


14     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Again  Gantry  choked  over  the  singular  lack  of 
information  discovering  itself  in  Blount's  ques 
tion. 

"Land  of  glory!"  he  ejaculated.  "Where  have 
you  been  burying  yourself,  Evan?  Didn't  I  just 
tell  you  that  he  is  the  biggest  man  in  the  State? 
Oh,  no" — with  heavy  irony — ahe  isn't  identified 
with  the  machine — not  at  all;  he  merely  owns  it 
and  runs  it.  We  may  think  we  can  swing  a  safe 
majority  in  the  legislature,  and  the  Bands'  may  be 
just  as  firmly  convinced  that  they  can.  But  before 
either  side  can  turn  a  wheel  it  will  have  to  walk  up 
to  the  captain's  office  and  get  its  orders." 

"Ah,"  said  Blount,  and  a  little  later:  "Thank 
you,  Dick,  I  am  pretty  badly  out  of  touch  with  the 
Western  political  situation,  as  you've  discovered." 
Then  he  changed  the  subject  abruptly.  "How  long 
will  your  traffic  meeting  last?" 

"We  practically  finished  to-day.  An  hour  or  two 
on  Monday  will  wind  it  up." 

"After  which  you'll  go  West?" 

"After  which  I  shall  go  West  by  the  Monday  noon 
train  if  I  can  make  it.  You  couldn't  hire  me  to 
stay  in  Boston  an  hour  longer  than  I  have  to." 

Silence  for  a  time  until  Blount  broke  in  upon 
Gantry's  tapping  of  the  dance-music  rhythm  with: 
"If  I  can  close  up  a  few  unfinished  business  matters 
and  get  ready  I  may  go  with  you,  Dick.  Would 
you  mind?" 

"Yes;  I  should  mind  so  much  that  I'd  willingly 
miss  a  train  or  so  and  worry  out  a  few  more  of  the 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID  "  NO  "  15 

chilly  Boston  hours  rather  than  lose  the  chance  of 
having  you  along." 

"That  is  good  of  you,  I'm  sure.  I  should  bore 
myself  to  death  if  I  had  to  travel  alone." 

Blount 's  rejoinder  might  have  passed  for  a  mere 
friendly  commonplace  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
rather  curiously  worded  telegram.  But  it  was  a 
goodly  portion  of  Gantry's  business  in  life  to  put 
two  and  two  together,  and  that  phrase  in  the  sena 
tor's  message  about  a  woman's  apron-string  inter 
ested  him.  Moreover,  it  was  subtly  suggestive. 

"Ever  meet  your  father's — er — the  present  Mrs. 
Blount,  Evan?"  he  asked. 

"No."  Blount  may  have  been  Western-born,  but 
the  chilling  discouragement  he  could  crowd  into  the 
two-letter  negation  spoke  eloquently  of  his  Eastern 
training. 

Gantry  was  rebuffed  but  not  disheartened. 

"She  is  a  mighty  fine  woman,"  he  ventured. 

"So  I  have  been  given  to  understand."  This 
time  Blount's  reply  was  icy.  But  now  Gantry's 
eyes  were  twinkling  and  he  pressed  his  advan 
tage. 

"You'll  have  to  reckon  pretty  definitely  with  her 
if  you  go  out  to  the  greasewood  country,  Evan. 
Next  to  your  father,  she  is  the  court  of  last  resort; 
indeed,  there  are  a  good  many  people  who  insist 
that  she  is  the  court — the  power  behind  the  throne, 
you  know." 

There  is  one  ditch  out  of  which  the  most  persist 
ent  and  gladsome  mocker  may  not  drive  his  victim, 


16     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  that  is  the  ditch  of  silence.  Blount  said  noth 
ing.  Nevertheless,  Gantry  tried  once  more. 

"Not  interested,  Evan?" 

Blount  turned  and  looked  his  companion  coldly 
in  the  eyes. 

"Not  in  the  slightest  degree,  Dick.  Will  you  take 
that  for  your  answer  now,  and  remember  it  here 
after?" 

"Sure,"  laughed  the  railroad  man.  And  then,  to 
round  out  the  forbidden  topic  by  adding  worse  to 
bad:  "I  didn't  know  it  was  a  sore  spot  with  you. 
How  should  I  know?  But,  as  I  say,  you'll  have  to 
reckon  with  her  sooner  or  later,  and— 

"Let's  talk  of  something  else,"  snapped  Blount. 

Gantry  found  a  match  and  relighted  his  cigar. 
When  he  began  again  he  was  still  thinking  of  the 
"apron-string"  clause  in  the  senator's  telegram. 

"I  can't  understand  how  any  man  with  Western 
blood  in  his  veins  could  ever  be  content  to  marry 
and  settle  down  in  this  over-civilized  neck  of  woods," 
he  remarked,  looking  down  upon  the  parked  auto 
mobiles  and  around  at  the  country-club  evidences 
of  the  civilization. 

"Can't  you?"  smiled  Blount,  with  large  lenience. 
One  of  the  things  the  civilization  had  done  for  him 
was  to  make  him  good-naturedly  tolerant  of  the 
crudeness  of  the  outlander. 

"No,  I  can't,"  asserted  the  Westerner.  Then  he 
added:  "Of  course,  I  don't  know  the  Eastern  young 
woman  even  by  sight.  She  may  be  all  that  is  lovely, 
desirable,  and  enticing — if  a  man  could  hope  to  live 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO"  17 

long  enough  to  get  really  well  acquainted  with 
her." 

"She  is,"  declared  Blount,  with  the  air  of  one 
who  had  lived  quite  long  enough  to  know. 

Once  more  Gantry  was  putting  two  and  two  to 
gether.  Blount's  determination  to  go  West  and 
grow  up  with  the  country — his  father's  country — 
was  apparently  a  very  sudden  one.  Had  the  de 
cision  turned  entirely  upon  the  senator's  telegram? 
Gantry,  wise  in  his  generation,  thought  not. 

"You  say  that  as  if  you'd  been  taking  a  few  les 
sons,"  he  laughed.  Then,  with  the  friendly  im 
pudence  which  only  a  college  comradeship  could 
excuse:  "Is  she  here  to-night?" 

"No,"  said  Blount,  unguardedly  making  the  re 
sponse  which  admitted  so  much  more  than  it  said. 

"Tell  me  about  her,"  Gantry  begged.  "I  don't 
often  read  a  love  story,  but  I  like  to  hear  'em." 

If  it  had  been  any  one  but  Gantry,  Blount  would 
probably  have  had  a  sharp  attack  of  reticence,  with 
outward  symptoms  unmistakable  to  the  dullest. 
But  the  time,  the  surroundings,  and  the  exceeding 
newness  of  Patricia's  "No"  combined  to  break  down 
the  barriers  of  reserve. 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell,  Dick,"  he  began  half 
humorously,  half  in  ill-concealed  self-pity.  "I've 
known  her  for  a  year,  and  I've  loved  her  from 
the  first  day.  That  is  Chapter  One;  and  Chapter 
Two  ends  the  story  with  one  small  word.  She  says 
'No.'" 

"The  dickens  she  does!"  said  Gantry,  in  hearty 


1 8     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

sympathy.  Then:  "But  that's  a  good  sign,  isn't 
it?  Haven't  I  heard  somewhere  that  they  always 
say  'No'  at  first?" 

Blount  laughed  in  spite  of  himself.  Gantry,  the 
Dick  Gantry  of  the  college  period,  had  always  been 
a  man's  man,  gay,  light-hearted,  and  care-free  to  the 
outward  eye,  but  in  reality  one  who  was  carrying 
burdens  of  poverty  and  distress  which  might  well 
have  crushed  an  older  and  a  stronger  man.  There 
had  been  no  time  for  sentiment  then,  and  Blount 
wondered  if  there  had  been  in  any  later  period. 

"I  am  afraid  I  can't  get  any  comfort  out  of  that 
suggestion,"  he  returned.  "When  Miss  Patricia 
Anners  says  'No,'  I  am  quite  sure  she  means  it." 

"Think  so?"  said  Gantry,  still  sympathetic. 
"Well,  I  suppose  you  are  the  best  judge.  Tough, 
isn't  it,  old  man?  What's  the  obstacle? — if  you 
can  tell  it  without  tearing  the  bandages  off  and 
saying  'Ouch!" 

"It  is  Miss  Anners's  career." 

"H'm,"  was  the  doubtful  comment;  "I'm  afraid 
you'll  have  to  elaborate  that  a  little  for  me.  I'm 
not  up  in  the  'career'  classification." 

"She  has  been  studying  at  home  and  abroad  in 
preparation  for  social-settlement  work  in  the  large 
cities.  Of  course,  I  knew  about  it;  but  I  thought 
—I  hoped- 

"You  hoped  it  was  only  a  young  woman's  fad— 
which  it  probably  is,"  Gantry  cut  in. 

"  Y-yes;  I'm  afraid  that  was  just  what  I  did  hope, 
Dick.  But  I  couldn't  talk  against  it.  Confound  it 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO"  19 

all,  you  can't  go  about  smashing  ideals  for  the 
people  you  love  best!" 

"Rich?"  queried  Gantry. 

"Oh,  no.  Her  father  has  the  chair  of  paleontol 
ogy,  and  never  gets  within  speaking  distance  of  the 
present  century.  The  mother  has  been  dead  many 
years." 

"And  you  say  the  girl  has  the  Hull  House  ambi 
tion?" 

"The  social-betterment  ambition.  It's  an  ideal, 
and  I  can't  smash  it.  You  wouldn't  smash  it,  either, 
Dick." 

"No;  I  guess  that's  so.  If  I  were  in  your  fix 
I  should  probably  do  what  you  are  doing — say 
'  Good-by,  fond  heart,'  and  hie  me  away  to  the  for 
getful  edge  of  things.  And  it's  simply  astonishing 
how  quickly  the  good  old  sage-brush  hills  will  help 
a  man  to  forget  everything  that  ever  happened  to 
him  before  he  ducked." 

Blount  winced  a  little  at  that.  It  was  no  part 
of  his  programme  to  forget  Patricia.  Indeed,  for 
twenty-four  hours,  or  the  waking  moiety  of  that 
period,  he  had  been  assuring  himself  of  the  utter 
impossibility  of  anything  remotely  approaching  for- 
getfulness.  This  thought  made  him  instantly  self- 
reproachful;  regretful  for  having  shown  a  sort  of 
disloyalty  by  opening  the  door  of  the  precious  and 
sacred  things,  even  to  so  good  a  friend  as  Dick  Gan 
try;  and  from  regretting  to  amending  was  never 
more  than  a  step  for  Evan  Blount.  There  were 
plenty  of  reminiscences  to  be  threshed  over,  and 


20     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Blount  brought  them  forward  so  tactfully  that  Gan 
try  hardly  knew  it  when  he  was  shouldered  away 
from  the  open  door  of  the  acuter  personalities. 

It  was  quite  late,  and  the  talk  had  again  drifted 
around  to  a  one-sided  discussion  of  practical  politics 
in  the  Western  definition  of  the  term,  when  Gantry, 
pleading  weariness  on  the  score  of  his  hard  week's 
work  at  the  railroad  meeting,  went  to  bed.  The 
summer  night  was  at  its  perfect  best,  and  Blount 
was  still  wakeful  enough  to  refill  his  pipe  and  well- 
balanced  enough  to  be  thankful  for  a  little  solitude 
in  which  to  set  in  order  his  plans  for  the  newly 
struck-out  future.  In  the  later  talk  with  Gantry 
he  had  learned  many  things  about  the  political  sit 
uation  in  his  native  State,  things  which  were  en 
lightening  if  not  particularly  encouraging.  Trained 
in  the  ethics  of  a  theoretical  school,  he  knew  only 
enough  about  practical  politics  to  be  very  certain 
in  his  own  mind  that  they  were  all  wrong.  And  if 
Gantry's  account  could  be  trusted,  there  were  none 
but  practical  politics  in  the  State  where  his  father 
was  reputed  to  be  the  dictator. 

Hitherto  his  ambition  had  been  to  build  up  a 
modest  business  practice  in  some  Eastern  city,  and, 
like  other  aspiring  young  lawyers,  he  had  been  fill 
ing  out  the  perspective  of  the  picture  with  the  look 
ahead  to  a  possible  time  when  some  great  corpora 
tion  should  need  his  services  in  permanence.  He 
was  of  the  new  generation,  and  he  knew  that  the 
lawyer  of  the  courts  was  slowly  but  surely  giving 
place  to  the  lawyer  of  business.  Without  attempt- 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO"  21 

ing  to  carry  the  modern  business  situation  bodily 
over  into  the  domain  of  pure  ethics,  he  was  still 
young  enough  and  enthusiastic  enough  to  lay  down 
the  general  principle  that  a  great  corporation,  being 
itself  a  creation  of  the  law,  must  necessarily  be  law- 
abiding,  and,  if  not  entirely  ethical  in  its  dealings 
with  the  public,  at  least  equitably  just.  Therefore 
his  ideal  in  his  own  profession  was  the  man  who 
could  successfully  safeguard  large  interests,  promote 
the  beneficent  outreachings  of  corporate  capital, 
and  be  the  adviser  of  the  man  or  men  to  whom  the 
greater  America  owes  its  place  at  the  head  of  the 
civilized  nations. 

Oddly  enough,  though  Gantry's  attitude  had  been 
uncompromisingly  partisan,  Blount  had  failed  to 
recognize  in  the  railroad  official  a  skilful  pleader 
for  the  special  interests — the  interests  of  the  few 
against  those  of  the  many.  Hence  he  was  prepar 
ing  to  go  to  the  new  field  with  a  rather  strong  pre 
possession  in  favor  of  the  defendant  corporation. 
In  their  later  conversation  Gantry  had  intimated 
pretty  broadly  that  there  was  room  for  an  assistant 
corporation  counsel  for  the  railroad,  with  head 
quarters  in  the  capital  of  the  Sage-brush  State. 
Blount  assumed  that  the  requirements,  in  the  present 
crisis  at  least,  would  be  political  rather  than  legal, 
and  in  his  mind's  eye  he  saw  himself  in  the  prefig 
ured  perspective,  standing  firmly  as  the  defender  of 
legitimate  business  rights  in  a  region  where  popu 
lar  prejudice  was  capable  of  rising  to  anarchistic 
heights  of  denunciation  and  attack. 


22     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

The  picture  pleased  him;  he  would  scarcely  have 
been  a  true  descendant  of  the  fighting  Blounts  of 
Tennessee  if  the  prospect  of  a  conflict  had  been 
other  than  inspiring.  If  there  were  to  be  no  Patricia 
in  his  future,  ambition  must  be  made  to  fill  all  the 
horizons;  and  since  work  is  the  best  surcease  for 
any  sorrow,  he  found  himself  already  looking  forward 
in  eager  anticipation  to  the  moment  when  he  could 
begin  the  grapple,  man-wise  and  vigorously,  in  the 
new  environment. 

It  was  after  the  ashes  had  been  knocked  from  the 
bedtime  pipe  that  Blount  left  his  chair  and  the  se 
cluded  corner  of  the  veranda  to  go  down  among  the 
parked  automobiles  on  the  lawn.  His  one  recrea 
tion — and  it  was  the  only  one  in  which  he  found 
the  precious  fillip  of  enthusiasm — was  motoring. 
There  was  a  choice  collection  of  fine  cars  in  the 
grouping  on  the  lawn,  and  Blount  had  just  awakened 
a  sleepy  chauffeur  to  ask  him  to  uncover  and  exhibit 
the  engine  of  a  freshly  imported  Italian  machine, 
when  a  stir  at  the  veranda  entrance  told  him  that  at 
least  a  few  of  the  dancing  guests  were  leaving  early. 

Being  more  curious  at  the  moment  about  the 
mechanism  of  the  Italian  motor  than  he  was  about 
people,  he  did  not  realize  that  he  was  an  intruder 
until  the  chauffeur  hastily  replaced  the  engine  bon 
net  and  began  to  get  his  car  ready  for  the  road. 
Blount  stepped  back  when  the  little  group  on  the 
veranda  came  down  the  steps  preceded  by  a  club 
footman  who  was  calling  the  number  of  the  car. 
And  it' was  not  until  he  was  turning  away  that  he 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO"  23 

found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  very  beautiful  and 
very  clear-eyed  young  woman  who  was  buttoning 
an  automobile  dust-coat  up  under  her  chin. 

"Patricia!"  he  burst  out.  And  then:  "For 
Heaven's  sake!  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  you 
have  been  here  all  evening?" 

Her  slow  smile  gave  the  impression,  not  quite  of 
frigidity  perhaps,  but  of  that  quality  of  serene  self- 
possession  which  strangers  sometimes  mistook  for 
coldness. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  be  here?"  she  asked.  "Didn't 
you  know  that  the  Cranfords — the  people  who  are 
entertaining — are  old  friends  of  ours?" 

Blount  shook  his  head.  "No,  I  didn't  know  it; 
and  because  I  didn't,  I  have  lost  an  entire  evening." 

"Oh,  no;  you  shouldn't  say  that,"  she  protested. 
"The  evening  was  yours  to  use  as  you  chose.  Mrs. 
Beverley  told  me  you  were  here,  and  she  added  that 
you  had  particularly  requested  not  to  be  introduced 
to  the  Cranfords  or  their  guests.  Besides,  you 
know  you  don't  care  anything  about  dancing." 

The  chauffeur  had  placed  his  other  passengers  in 
the  tonneau,  and  was  trying  to  crank  the  motor. 
Blount  was  thankful  that  the  new  Italian  engine  was 
refusing  to  take  the  spark.  The  delay  was  giving 
him  an  added  moment  or  two. 

"No,  I  don't  care  much  for  dancing;  and  you 
know  very  well  why  I  couldn't,  or  wouldn't,  be  any 
body's  good  company  to-night,"  he  said.  Then: 
"It  was  cruel  of  you  to  deny  me  this  last  evening 
by  not  letting  me  know  that  you  were  here." 


24     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"'This  last  evening'?"  she  echoed.  "Why 
'last?" 

"Because  I  am  leaving  Boston  and  New  England 
to-morrow — or  rather,  Monday.  It  is  the  only 
thing  to  do." 

"I  am  sorry  you  are  taking  it  this  way,  Evan," 
she  deprecated,  in  the  sisterly  tone  that  always 
made  him  hotly  resentful.  "It  hurts  my  sense  of 
proportion." 

"Sometimes  I  think  you  haven't  any  sense  of 
proportion,  Patricia,"  he  retorted  half -morosely. 
"If  you  have,  I  am  sure  it  is  frightfully  distorted." 

The  recalcitrant  motor  had  given  a  few  prelimi 
nary  explosions,  and  a  white-haired  old  gentleman  in 
the  tonneau  was  calling  impatiently  to  Patricia  to 
come  and  take  her  place  so  that  he  might  close  the 
door. 

"It  is  you  who  have  the  distorted  perspective, 
Evan,"  she  countered.  "But  I  refused  to  quarrel 
with  you  last  night,  and  I  am  refusing  to  quarrel 
with  you  now.  It  pleases  you  to  believe  that  a 
woman's  place  in  this  twentieth-century  world  is  in 
evitably  at  the  fireside — her  own  fireside.  I  don't 
agree  with  you;  I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  agree  with 
you.  Where  are  you  going?" 

"I  am  going -West,  Monday." 

"How  odd!"  she  commented.  "We  are  going 
West,  too — father  and  I — though  not  quite  so  soon 
as  Monday." 

"You  are?"  he  queried.  "Whereabout  in  the 
West?" 


BECAUSE  PATRICIA  SAID   "NO"  25 

She  did  not  tell  him  where.  The  car  motor  was 
whirring  smoothly  now,  the  chauffeur  was  sliding 
into  his  seat  behind  the  pilot-wheel,  and  the  old 
gentleman  in  the  tonneau  was  growing  quite  vio 
lently  impatient. 

"If  we  are  both  going  in  the  same  direction  we 
needn't  say  good-by,"  she  said  hastily,  giving  him 
her  hand  at  parting.  "Let  it  be  auf  wiedersehen" 
Then  the  clang  of  the  closing  tonneau  door  and  the 
outgoing  rush  of  the  big  car  coincided  so  accu 
rately  that  Blount  had  to  spring  nimbly  aside  to 
save  himself  from  being  run  down. 


n 

THE  BOSS 

IT  is  a  far  cry  from  Boston  to  the  land  of  broken 
mountain  ranges,  lone  buttes,  and  irrigated  mesas, 
and  a  still  farther  one  from  the  veranda  of  an  exclu 
sive  North  Shore  club  to  a  private  dining-room  in 
the  Inter-Mountain  Hotel,  whose  entrance  portico 
faces  the  Capitol  grounds  in  the  chief  city  of  the 
Sage-brush  State,  whose  eastern  windows  com 
mand  a  magnificent  view  of  the  Lost  River  Range, 
and  from  whose  roof,  on  a  clear  day,  one  may  see 
the  snowy  peaks  of  the  Sierras  notching  the  distant 
western  horizon. 

Allowing  for  the  difference  between  Eastern  and 
Mountain  time,  the  dinner  for  two  in  the  private 
dining-room  of  the  Inter-Mountain  synchronized 
very  fairly  with  the  threshing  out  of  college  reminis 
cences  by  the  two  young  men  whose  apparently  for 
tuitous  meeting  on  the  veranda  of  the  far-away 
North  Shore  club-house  one  of  them,  at  least,  was 
ascribing  to  the  good  offices  of  the  god  of  chance. 

On  the  guest-book  of  the  Inter-Mountain  one  of 
the  men  at  the  table  in  the  private  dining-room  had 
registered  from  Chicago.  The  name  was  illegible 
to  the  cursory  eye,  but  since  it  was  the  signature 

26 


THE  BOSS  27 

of  a  notable  empire-builder,  it  was  sufficiently  well 
known  in  all  the  vast  region  served  by  the  Trans 
continental  Railway  System.  The  owner  of  the 
name  had  finished  his  ice,  and  was  sitting  back  to 
clip  the  end  from  a  very  long  and  very  black  cigar. 
He  was  a  man  past  middle-age,  large-framed  and 
heavy,  with  the  square,  resolute  face  of  a  born 
master  of  circumstances.  Like  the  younger  gen 
eration,  he  was  clean  shaven;  hence  there  was  no 
mask  for  the  deeply  graven  lines  of  determination 
about  the  mouth  and  along  the  angle  of  the  strong, 
leonine  jaw.  In  the  region  traversed  by  the  great 
railway  system  the  virile  face  with  the  massive  jaw 
was  as  familiar  as  the  illegible  signature  on  the 
Inter-Mountain's  guest-book.  Though  he  figured 
only  as  the  first  vice-president  of  the  Transconti 
nental  Company,  Hardwick  McVickar  was  really 
the  active  head  of  its  affairs  and  the  dictator  of  its 
policies. 

Across  the  small  round  table  sat  the  railway 
magnate's  dinner-guest,  a  man  who  was  more  than 
McVickar's  match  in  big-boned,  square-shouldered 
physique,  and  whose  half-century  was  written  only 
in  the  thick,  grizzled  hair  and  heavy,  graying 
mustaches.  Like  McVickar,  he  had  the  lion-like 
face  of  mastership,  but  the  fine  wrinkles  at  the 
corners  of  the  wide-set  eyes  postulated  a  sense  of 
humor  which  was  lacking  in  his  table  companion. 
His  mouth,  half  hidden  by  the  drooping  mustaches, 
needed  the  relieving  wrinkles  at  the  corners  of  the 
eyes;  it  was  a  grim,  straight-lined  inheritance  from 


28     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

his  pioneer  ancestors — the  mouth  of  a  man  who  may 
yield  to  persuasion  but  not  easily  to  opposition. 

"I  wish  I  could  convince  you  that  it  isn't  worth 
while  to  hold  me  at  arm's-length,  Senator,"  Mc- 
Vickar  was  saying,  as  he  clipped  the  end  from  his 
cigar.  "You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  under  the 
present  law  in  this  State  we  are  practically  bankrupt. 
We  are  not  making  enough  to  pay  the  fixed  charges. 
We  do  a  losing  business  from  the  moment  we  cross 
your  State  line." 

"Yes;  it  seems  to  me  I  have  heard  something  that 
sounded  a  good  deal  like  that  before,"  was  the  non 
committal  rejoinder. 

"You  have  heard  the  simple  truth,  then.  And  it 
is  a  bald  injustice,  not  only  to  the  railroad  company, 
but  to  the  people  it  serves.  We  can't  give  adequate 
service  when  the  cost  exceeds  the  earnings.  That 
is  the  simplest  possible  proposition  in  any  business 
undertaking." 

"And  you  can't  make  out  to  convince  the  mem 
bers  of  the  State  Railroad  Commission  of  the  sim- 
pleness?"  asked  the  man  whom  the  vice-president 
addressed  as  "Senator." 

"You  know  well  enough  that  we  can't  hope  to 
convince  a  rabidly  anti-railroad  commission,"  was 
the  half-angry  retort. 

"Yet  you  are  still  running  your  railroad,"  sug 
gested  the  other.  "We  don't  hear  anything  about 
your  shutting  down  and  tearing  up  the  track." 

"No;  luckily,  the  Transcontinental  System  does 
not  lie  wholly  within  your  State  boundaries.  If  it 


THE  BOSS  29 

did,  we  might  as  well  surrender  our  charter  and  go 
out  of  business — shut  down  and  tear  up  the  track, 
as  you  put  it." 

"All  of  which  has  come  to  be  a  pretty  old  and 
well-worn  story  with  us,  McVickar,"  said  the  lis 
tener  quietly.  "I'm  sure  you  didn't  make  me 
motor  thirty  miles  to  hear  you  tell  it  all  over  again. 
What  do  you  want?  " 

"We  want  a  square  deal,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"So  do  the  people  of  this  State,"  asserted  the 
man  across  the  table.  "You  bled  us,  Hard  wick — 
bled  us  to  the  queen's  taste — while  you  had  the 
chance;  and  the  chance  lasted  a  blamed  long  time. 
You  are  equitably,  if  not  legally,  in  debt  to  every 
man  in  this  State  who  had  ever  shipped  a  car-load 
of  freight  or  paid  a  passenger  fare  over  your  line 
before  the  present  rate  law  went  into  effect.  You 
can  shuffle  and  side-step  all  you  want  to,  but  that  is 
the  plain  fact  of  the  matter." 

The  vice-president  sat  up  and  braced  his  arms  on 
the  edge  of  the  table. 

"You  are  too  much  for  me,  Blount — you  hold 
out  too  many  cards;  and  I'm  no  apprentice  at  the 
game,  either.  In  all  these  years  we've  been  dicker 
ing  together  you've  always  been  a  hard-bitted  and 
consistent  fighter  for  your  own  hand.  What's  hap 
pened  to  you  lately?  Have  you  acquired  a  new  set 
of  convictions?  Or  have  you  been  figuring  out  a 
different  way  of  whipping  the  devil  around  the 
stump?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  returned  the  guest,  with 


30     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

large  good-nature.  "We  are  all  growing  older — 
and  wiser,  perhaps.  You  don't  deny  the  debt  you 
owe  us,  do  you?" 

"Do  we  owe  you  anything,  Blount?"  asked  the 
magnate  pointedly,  and  with  a  definite  emphasis 
upon  the  personal  pronoun.  "If  we  do,  we  are  will 
ing  to  pay  it  in  spot  cash,  on  demand." 

The  big  man  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  was 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  the  smile  wrinkling  at  the  corners  of 
his  eyes  was  half-genial,  half-satirical. 

"It's  lucky  we're  alone,  McVickar,"  he  remarked. 
"A  third  fellow  standing  around  and  hearing  you 
talk  might  imagine  that  you  are  trying  to  bribe  me." 

"That's  all  right,  Blount;  this  is  between  us  two, 
and  we  understand  each  other.  Nothing  for  noth 
ing  is  the  accepted  rule  the  world  over,  and  we 
both  recognize  it.  You  are  figuring  on  something; 
I  know  you  are.  Name  it.  If  it  is  anything  less 
than  a  mortgage  on  the  earth  and  one  or  two  of 
the  planets  I'll  get  it  for  you." 

"I'm  afraid  we  are  a  good  deal  more  than  a  mile 
or  two  apart  yet,  McVickar,"  said  the  man  who  was 
not  smoking,  after  a  long  minute.  "Let's  ride  back 
to  the  beginning  and  get  us  a  fresh  start.  I  said 
that  Gordon  is  going  to  be  the  next  governor  of  the 
State." 

"I  know  you  did;  and  I  said — and  I  say  it  again 
— he  isn't  going  to  be — not  if  we  can  help  it,"  de 
clared  the  railway  magnate,  with  emphatic  deter 
mination. 


THE  BOSS  31 

"The  methods  you  will  take  to  defeat  him  will 
insure  his  election,  McVickar.  You  fellows  are 
mighty  slow  to  learn  your  lesson;  mighty  slow  and 
obstinate,  Hardwick.  You  don't  know  anything 
but  wire-pulling  and  crookedness  and  bribery.  The 
times  have  changed,  and  you  haven't  had  the  com 
mon-sense  or  the  courage  or  the  business  shrewd 
ness  to  change  with  them.  I  say  Gordon  will  be 
the  next  governor." 

Again  there  was  a  strained  silence  like  that  which 
follows  the  hand-shake  in  the  prize-ring  when  the 
two  antagonists  have  drawn  apart  and  are  warily 
watching  each  for  his  opening.  After  the  pause  the 
vice-president  said: 

"If  we  had  the  safest  kind  of  a  majority  in  both 
houses  of  the  legislature,  we  couldn't  be  sure  of  ac 
complishing  anything  worth  while  with  Gordon  in 
the  governor's  office;  you  know  that,  Blount.  If 
Gordon  runs  and  is  elected,  his  platform  will  be 
flatly  anti-railroad." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  was  the  calm  rejoinder. 
"Gordon  is  a  mighty  square  fellow;  an  honest  man 
and  a  fair  one.  If  you  could  stay  out  of  the  fight 
and  go  to  him  with  clean  hands — but  you  couldn't 
do  that,  McVickar;  you're  too  badly  out  of  prac 
tice." 

"We  needn't  go  into  that  phase  of  it.  We  are 
so  savagely  handicapped  in  this  State  that  we  can't 
afford  to  take  a  divided  chance;  can't  afford  to  pass 
our  case  up  to  a  man  who  has  been  elected  by  an 
unfriendly  opposition.  If  we  should  wash  our  hands 


32     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

of  the  fight,  as  you  suggest,  we  might  just  as  well 
throw  up  our  franchises  and  quit,  so  far  as  any 
prospect  of  earning  a  reasonable  return  upon  our 
investment  here  is  concerned." 

"I  know;  that  is  what  you  always  say,  and  you 
have  said  it  so  often — you  and  your  fellow  railroad 
string-pullers — that  you  have  lost  the  straightforward 
combination  completely.  If  you  ever  knew  how  to 
make  a  clean  fight  youVe  forgotten  the  moves,  and 
it's  your  own  fault." 

Once  more  the  man  with  the  fierce  eyes  and  the 
dominating  jaw  took  time  to  consider.  Like  others 
of  his  class,  he  was  partisan  only  in  the  sense  of  one 
fighting  hardily  for  the  side  upon  which  he  had  hap 
pened  to  be  drawn  in  the  great  world  battle.  If  he 
had  not  long  ago  parted  with  his  convictions,  the 
heat  and  smoke  of  the  battle  had  obscured  them, 
and  he  chose  his  weapons  now  with  little  regard  for 
anything  beyond  their  possible  efficacy. 

"You  are  sparring  with  me,  Blount,"  he  said 
finally.  "You  are  talking  to  me  as  you  might  talk 
to  a  committee  of  the  Good  Government  League — 
and  possibly  for  the  same  reason.  Let's  get  together. 
You  control  the  political  situation  in  your  State,  and 
we  frankly  recognize  that  fact.  It's  a  matter  of 
business,  and  we  can  settle  it  on  a  business  basis. 
I  have  been  outspoken  and  above-board  with  you 
and  have  told  you  what  we  want.  Meet  me  half 
way  and  tell  me  what  you  want." 

"I  want  a  square  deal  all  around,  Hardwick; 
that's  all.  You've  got  to  take  the  same  ground 


THE  BOSS  33 

and  make  a  clean  fight  if  you  want  me  with  you. 
I  can't  make  it  any  plainer  than  that,  can  I?" 

"I  don't  know  yet  what  you  are  diiving  at," 
frowned  the  vice-president,  "nor  just  why  you  have 
taken  this  particular  occasion  to  read  me  a  kinder 
garten  lecture  on  political  methods.  In  times  past 
I  suppose  we  have  both  done  some  things  that  we 
would  like  to  have  decently  buried  and  forgotten, 
but- 

"But  right  there  we  break  apart,  McVickar," 
cut  in  the  other,  setting  his  jaw  with  a  peculiar  hard 
ening  of  the  facial  muscles  that  gave  him  the  appear 
ance  of  a  fierce  old  viking  attacking  at  the  head  of 
his  squadrons.  "I'm  telling  you  over  again  that  a 
new  day  has  dawned  in  American  politics;  I  and 
my  kind  recognize  it,  and  you  and  your  kind  don't 
seem  to  be  big  enough  to  recognize  it.  That  is  the 
difference  between  us.  In  the  present  instance  it 
comes  down  to  this:  you  are  going  to  fight  for  a 
railroad  majority  in  the  legislature,  and  you  want 
Reynolds  for  the  head  of  the  ticket  because  you 
know  that  you  can  depend  upon  his  veto  if  you 
don't  get'  your  majority  in  the  House  and  Senate. 
You  are  not  going  to  get  Reynolds,  or  the  majority 
either,  without  the  help  of  the  party  organization." 

"We  can  put  it  much  more  elementally  than 
that,"  supplemented  the  railroad  man.  "We  get 
nothing  without  your  say-so  as  the  head  of  the 
party  organization.  That  is  precisely  why  I  have 
come  a  couple  of  thousand  miles  to  ask  you  to  eat 
dinner  with  me  here  to-night." 


34     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I  reckon  I  ought  to  feel  right  much  set  up  and 
biggitty  over  that,  Hardwick,"  smiled  the  veteran 
spoilsman,  relapsing,  as  he  did  now  and  then,  into 
the  speech  of  his  Southern  boyhood.  And  then 
half -quizzically:  "Are  you  tolerably  well  satisfied 
that  you've  got  around  to  the  place  where  you  are 
willing  to  tote  fair  with  me?  You  recollect,  I  gave 
you  a  straight  pointer  two  years  ago;  you  wouldn't 
take  it,  and  we  did  you  up.  Are  you  right  certain 
you  are  ready  now  to  holler  ' enough'?" 

Once  again  the  vice-president  refused  to  be  hur 
ried  into  making  a  capitulative  admission.  When 
he  spoke,  the  militant  second  thought  of  the  fight 
ing  corporation  commander  chose  the  words. 

"There  is  a  limit  to  all  things,  Senator,  and  you 
are  pushing  us  pretty  well  up  to  it.  I  suppose  you 
can  crack  the  whip  and  swing  the  vote  on  the  legis 
lature,  and,  you  can  take  it  and  be  damned.  But, 
by  God,  we'll  have  our  governor  and  our  attorney- 
general!" 

"You  are  betting  confidently  on  that,  are  you?" 
said  the  veteran  mildly.  "Is  that  your  declaration 
of  war?" 

"Call  it  anything  you  like.  We  are  not  going  to 
be  legislated  off  the  map  if  we  can  help  it.  Strong 
as  your  machine  is,  you  can't  swing  Gordon  in 
against  Reynolds  if  we  concede  your  bare  majority 
in  the  legislature  and  put  up  the  right  kind  of  a  fight. 
And  when  it  comes  to  Rankin,  our  candidate  for 
attorney-general,  you  simply  haven't  another  man 
in  the  party  to  put  up  against  him.  You'd  have 


THE  BOSS  35 

to  run  in  a  dummy,  and  even  you  are  not  big  enough 
to  do  that,  Blount,  and  put  it  over." 

"  You've  settled  this  definitely  in  your  own  mind, 
have  you,  Hard  wick?"  was  the  placable  rejoinder. 
"I'm  sorry — right  sorry.  I've  been  hoping  that  you 
had  learned  your  lesson — you  and  your  tribe.  I 
came  to  town  this  evening  prepared  to  show  you  a 
decent  way  out  of  your  troubles,  so  far  as  this  State 
is  concerned;  but  since  you  have  posted  your  'de-fi,' 
as  we  cow-punchers  say,  I  reckon  it  isn't  worth  while 
to  wade  any  deeper  into  the  creek." 

Again  the  railroad  magnate  rested  his  arms  on  the 
table-edge.  "What  was  your  ' decent  way/  Sena 
tor?"  he  asked,  fixing  his  gaze  upon  the  shrewd  old 
eyes  of  the  other,  which,  for  the  first  time  in  the 
conference,  seemed  to  be  losing  a  little  of  their 
grimly  good-natured  aggressiveness. 

"I  don't  mind  telling  you,  though  you  will  likely 
call  it  an  old  man's  foolishness.  I  have  a  grown 
son,  McVickar.  Did  you  know  that?" 

The  vice-president  nodded,  and  the  big  man  op 
posite  went  on  half-reminiscently : 

"He  is  a  lawyer,  and  a  mighty  bright  one,  so  they 
tell  me.  As  I  happen  to  know,  he  is  pretty  well  up 
on  the  corporation  side  of  the  argument,  and  the  one 
thing  I've  been  afraid  of  is  that  he  would  marry 
and  settle  down  somewhere  in  the  East,  where  the 
big  corporations  have  their  home  ranches.  I'm  get 
ting  old,  Hardwick,  and  I'd  like  mighty  well  to  have 
the  boy  with  me.  Out  of  that  notion  grew  another. 
I  said  to  myself  this:  Now,  here's  McVickar;  if 


36     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

he  could  have  a  good,  clean-cut  young  man  in  this 
State  representing  his  railroad — a  man  who  not 
only  knew  his  way  around  in  a  court-room,  but 
who  might  also  know  how  to  plead  his  client's  case 
before  the  public — if  McVickar  could  have  such  a 
young  fellow  as  that  for  his  corporation  counsel, 
and  would  agree  to  make  his  railroad  company  live 
somewhere  within  shouting  distance  of  such  a  young 
fellow's  ideals,  we  might  all  be  persuaded  to  bury 
the  hatchet  and  live  together  in  peace  and  amity." 

A  slow  smile  was  spreading  itself  over  the  strong 
face  of  the  railway  magnate  as  he  listened. 

"Say,  David,"  he  retorted  mildly,  "it  isn't  much 
like  you  to  go  forty  miles  around  when  there  is  a 
short  way  across.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  plainly  in 
the  beginning  that  you  wanted  a  place  for  your  boy?  " 

"Hold  on;  don't  let's  get  too  far  along  before  we 
get  started;  I'm  not  saying  it  now,"  was  the  sober 
protest.  "You  forget  that  you've  just  been  telling 
me  that  you  don't  intend  to  comply  with  the  one 
hard-and-fast  condition  to  such  an  arrangement  as 
the  one  I've  been  pipe-dreaming  about." 

"What  condition?" 

"That  you  turn  over  a  brand-new  leaf  and  meet 
the  people  of  this  State  half-way  on  a  proposition 
of  fair  play  for  everybody." 

"There  isn't  any  half-way  point  in  a  fight  for  life, 
David.  You  know  that  as  well,  or  better,  than  I 
do.  But  let  that  go.  We'll  give  your  son  the  place 
you  want  him  to  have,  and  do  it  gladly." 

The  man  who  had  once  been  his  own  foreman  of 


THE  BOSS  37 

round-ups  straightened  himself  in  his  chair  and 
smote  the  table  with  his  fist. 

"No,  by  God,  you  won't — not  in  a  thousand 
years,  McVickar!  Maybe  you  could  buy  me — 
maybe  you  have  bought  me  in  times  past — but  you 
can't  buy  that  boy!  Listen,  and  I'll  tell  you  what 
I'm  going  to  do.  I  telegraphed  the  boy  this  after 
noon,  telling  him  to  throw  up  his  job  in  Boston  and 
come  out  here.  If  he  comes  within  a  reasonable 
time  he  will  be  legally  a  citizen  of  the  State  before 
election.  You  said  we  didn't  have  anybody  but 
Rankin  to  run  for  attorney-general.  By  Heavens, 
Hardwick,  I'll  show  you  if  we  haven't!" 

Mr.  Hardwick  McVickar  was  not  of  those  who 
fight  as  one  beating  the  air.  While  the  deft  waiter 
was  clearing  the  table  and  serving  the  small  coffees 
he  kept  silence.  But  when  the  time  was  fully  ripe 
he  said  what  there  was  to  be  said. 

"You've  got  us  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  as  usual, 
Blount.  Name  your  terms." 

"I  have  named  them.  Get  in  line  with  the  new 
public  opinion  and  we'll  do  what  we  can  for  you." 

During  the  long  pause  following  this  curt  ulti 
matum  the  masterful  dictator  of  railroad  policies 
deliberated  thoughtfully  upon  many  things.  With 
the  ex-senator  as  the  all-powerful  head  of  the  ma 
chine  in  this  State  of  many  costly  battle-fields,  it 
would  have  been  a  weakness  inexcusable  on  the 
part  of  so  astute  a  commander  as  McVickar  if 
David  Blount's  history,  political  and  personal,  had 
not  been  known  to  him  in  all  its  details.  As  a  con- 


38    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

tingency  to  be  met  sooner  or  later,  the  vice-president 
had  anticipated  the  thing  which  had  now  come  to 
pass.  That  Blount  should  wish  to  push  the  fortunes 
of  his  son  was  perfectly  natural;  and  it  was  no  less 
natural  that  he  should  push  them  by  making  the 
railroad  company's  pay-roll  furnish  the  motive- 
power.  The  magnate  smiled  inwardly  when  he  re 
membered  that  he  had  given  Gantry,  the  division 
traffic  manager  of  the  Transcontinental,  a  quiet  hint 
to  look  up  one  Evan  Blount,  a  young  lawyer,  on 
his  next  visit  to  Boston.  By  all  odds  it  would  be 
better  to  wait  for  Gantry's  report  before  taking 
any  irrevocable  steps  in  the  bargaining  with  Evan 
Blount's  father;  but  unhappily  the  crisis  had  ar 
rived,  and  in  all  probability  it  could  not  be  post 
poned.  None  the  less,  the  vice-president  tried  craft 
ily  for  the  postponement. 

"You're  asking  a  good  deal,  Blount,  and  you  don't 
seem  to  realize  it.  You  are  practically  demanding 
that  we  lay  down  our  arms  and  put  a  possible  enemy 
in  the  saddle  on  the  eve  of  a  battle.  If  we  should 
agree  to  meet  the  people  of  this  State  half-way,  as 
you  suggest,  what  guarantee  have  we  that  we  won't 
be  compelled  to  go  all  the  way?" 

The  fine-lined  wrinkles  were  appearing  again  at 
the  corners  of  the  hereditary  Blount  eyes. 

"You  can't  quite  rise  to  the  occasion,  can  you, 
Hardwick?"  smiled  the  boss.  "You'd  like  to  be 
have  yourself  and  be  good,  of  course;  but  you  want 
to  be  cocksure  beforehand  that  it  isn't  going  to 
cost  too  much." 


THE  BOSS  39 

"Well,  anyway,  I'm  going  to  ask  for  a  little  time 
in  which  to  consider  it,"  was  the  vice-president's 
final  word. 

"Sure!  You  have  all  the  time  there  is  between 
now  and  the  election.  Go  on  and  do  your  consid 
ering.  I've  told  you  what  I'm  going  to  do." 

"You  know  very  well  that  we  can't  allow  you  to 
do  what  you  propose.  With  an  unfriendly  attorney- 
general  we  might  as  well  throw  up  our  hands  first 
as  last." 

"All  right;  it's  right  pointedly  up  to  you,"  was 
the  calm  reply. 

The  vice-president  rose  and  dusted  the  cigar-ash 
from  his  coat-sleeve  with  the  table-napkin.  When 
he  looked  up,  the  heavy  frown  was  again  furrowing 
itself  between  his  eyes. 

"Let  me  know  when  your  son  is  coming  and 
I'll  try  to  make  it  possible  to  meet  him  here,"  he 
said  rather  gratingly. 

And  thus,  at  the  precise  moment  when  Richard 
Gantry,  some  three  thousand  miles  away  to  the 
eastward,  was  declaring  his  weariness  and  his  inten 
tion  of  going  to  bed,  the  two-man  conference  in  the 
Inter-Mountain  private  dining-room  was  closed. 


Ill 

A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES 

As  a  churlish  fate  decreed,  it  turned  out  that 
Evan  Blount  was  not  to  have  Gantry  for  a  travelling 
companion  beyond  Chicago.  On  the  second  day  of 
westward  faring  the  railroad  traffic  manager,  whose 
business  followed  him  like  an  implacable  Nemesis 
wherever  he  went,  had  wire  instructions  to  stop 
and  confer  with  his  vice-president  in  the  Illinois 
metropolis.  Hence,  on  the  morning  of  the  follow 
ing  day,  Blount  continued  his  journey  alone. 

Twenty-odd  hours  later  the  returning  expatriate 
had  crossed  his  Rubicon;  in  other  words,  his  train 
had  rolled  through  the  majestic  steel  bridge  span 
ning  the  clay-colored  flood  of  the  Missouri  River  at 
Omaha,  and  he  was  entering  upon  scenes  which 
ought  to  have  been  familiar — which  should  have 
been  and  were  not,  so  many  and  striking  were  the 
changes  which  had  been  wrought  during  his  four 
teen  years  of  absence. 

Though  he  was  far  enough  from  realizing  it, 
his  education  and  the  Eastern  environment  had 
given  him  a  touch  of  Old- World  insularity.  The 
through  sleeper  in  which  he  had  his  allotment  of 

40 


A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  41 

space  was  well  filled,  and  there  were  the  usual  op 
portunities  for  the  making  of  passing  acquaintance 
ships  in  the  smoking-compartment.  But  it  was  not. 
until  the  second  day,  after  the  dining-car  luncheon 
and  its  aftermath  of  a  well-chosen  cigar  had  broken 
down  some  of  the  barriers  of  the  acquired  reserve, 
that  he  fell  into  talk  with  the  prosperous-looking 
gentleman  who  had  seized  upon  the  only  chair 
in  the  smoking-compartment — a  man  whose  thin, 
hawk-like  face,  narrowly  set  eyes,  and  uneasy  man 
ner  were  singularly  out  of  keeping  with  the  fashion 
able  cut  of  his  clothes,  with  his  liberal  tips,  and 
with  the  display  of  jewelry  on  his  watch-fob. 

At  first  the  conversation  was  baldly  desultory,  as 
it  was  bound  to  be,  with  an  escaped  lover,  whose 
disappointment  was  still  rasping  him  like  a  newly 
devised  Nessus  shirt,  to  sustain  an  undivided  half 
of  it.  The  hawk-faced  one,  who  had  boarded  the 
train  at  Omaha  and  whose  section  was  directly 
opposite  Blount's,  defined  himself  as  a  mine-owner 
whose  property,  vaguely  located  as  somewhere  "in 
the  mountains,"  was  involved  in  litigation. 

It  was  the  reference  to  the  litigation  which  first 
drew  Blount  beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  common 
places.  Oddly  enough,  considering  the  fact  that 
his  planned-for  Eastern  career  would  have  given 
him  little  occasion  to  dip  into  the  mining  codes,  he 
had  specialized  somewhat  in  mining  law.  Hence, 
when  the  hawk-faced  man  had  told  his  story,  Blount 
found  himself  thawing  out  sufficiently  to  be  sugges 
tively  helpful  to  the  man  who  had  apparently  pur- 


42     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

chased  more  trouble  than  profits  in  his  mining 
ventures. 

Into  the  cleft  thus  opened  by  the  axe  of  human 
sympathy  the  man  in  the  wicker  chair  presently 
inserted  a  wedge  of  cautious  inquiry  touching  an 
other  matter.  In  addition  to  his  mining  ventures  he 
had  been  making  investments  in  timber-lands,  or, 
rather,  in  certain  lumber  companies  operating  "in 
the  mountains" — bad  investments,  he  feared,  since 
the  Government  had  lately  taken  such  a  decided 
stand  against  the  cutting  of  timber  in  the  mountain- 
land  reserves  and  water-sheds.  Was  it  likely,  he 
asked,  that  the  talk  would  materialize  hi  restrain 
ing  action?  If  so,  he  was  in  the  hole  again — worse 
off  than  he  should  be  if  his  mining  lawsuits  should 
go  against  him. 

Again  Blount,  good-naturedly  charitable  and  not 
a  little  amused  by  the  nervous  anxiety  of  the  gentle 
man  of  many  troubles,  gave  an  opinion. 

"Conservation,  in  timber  as  well  as  in  other  re 
maining  resources  of  the  country,  has  come  to  be 
a  word  which  is  in  everybody's  mouth,"  was  the 
form  the  opinion  took.  "The  plain  citizen  who  isn't 
familiar  with  the  methods  of  the  timber  sharks 
would  do  well  to  keep  his  money  out  of  their  hands 
if  he  doesn't  wish  to  be  held  as  particeps  criminis 
with  them  in  the  day  of  reckoning." 

"Say!"  ejaculated  the  thin  man,  wriggling  ner 
vously  in  his  chair.  "If  you  were  a  Government 
agent  yourself  you  could  hardly  put  the  case  stronger 
for  the  conservation  crowd!" 


A  FALSE   GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  43 

Now,  in  ordinary  circumstances,  nothing  was  ever 
farther  from  Blount's  normal  attitude  toward  his 
fellow-men  than  a  disposition  to  yield  to  the  sudden 
joking  impulse.  But  the  hawk-faced  man's  pertur 
bation  was  so  real,  or  so  faultlessly  simulated,  that 
he  could  not  resist  the  temptation. 

"How  do  you  know  that  I  am  not  a  Government 
agent?"  he  demanded,  with  a  decent  show  of  gravity. 

"Because  you  are  not  travelling  on  Government 
transportation,"  was  the  shrewd  retort. 

At  another  time  Blount  might  have  wondered 
why  a  casual  fellow-traveller  should  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  make  the  discovery.  But  at  the  moment 
he  was  intent  only  upon  keeping  the  small  misun 
derstanding  alive. 

"I  suppose  you  have  seen  my  ticket,  but  you 
can't  tell  anything  by  that,"  he  countered,  laughing. 
"A  good  many  civilian  employees  of  the  Govern 
ment  travel  nowadays  on  regular  tickets,  like  other 
people." 

"I  know  damned  well  they  do,"  admitted  the 
anxious  one;  and  then,  with  a  swift  eye-shot  which 
Blount  missed:  "Especially  if  they  happen  to  be 
travelling  on  the  quiet  to  catch  some  poor  devil 
napping  on  the  job." 

"You  needn't  be  alarmed;  you  haven't  told  me 
anything  that  the  department  could  make  use  of," 
returned  Blount,  carrying  the  jest  the  one  necessary 
move  farther  along. 

It  was  precisely  at  this  point,  as  Blount  remem 
bered  afterward,  that  the  timber- thieving  subject 


44    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

was  dropped.  Later  on,  after  the  talk  had  drifted 
back  to  mining,  and  from  mining  to  politics,  the 
nervous  gentleman  pleaded  weariness  and  declared 
his  intention  of  going  to  his  section  to  take  a  nap, 
and  presently  disappeared  to  carry  it  out. 

Blount  was  not  sorry  to  be  left  alone.  In  re 
sponse  to  a  vague  stirring  of  something  within 
him — a  thing  which  might  have  been  the  primitive 
underman  yawning  and  stretching  to  its  awakening 
— he  had  been  trying  in  the  window-facing  inter 
vals  to  reconstruct  the  passing  panorama  of  moun 
tain  and  plain  upon  the  recollections  of  his  boy 
hood.  As  yet  there  was  little  familiarity  save  in  the 
broader  outlines.  Where  he  remembered  only  the 
fallow-dun  prairie,  dotted  with  dog-mounds,  there 
were  now  vast  ranches  planted  to  sod  corn;  and 
upon  the  hills  the  cattle  ranges  were  no  longer  open. 
The  towns,  too,  at  which  the  train  made  its  momen 
tary  stops,  were  changed.  The  straggling  shack 
hamlets  of  the  cattle-shipping  period,  with  the  shed- 
roofed  railroad  station,  the  whitewashed  loading- 
corral,  and  the  towering  water-tank — all  back 
grounded  by  a  thin  line  of  saloons  and  dance-halls 
—had  disappeared  completely,  and  the  window- 
watcher  found  himself  looking  in  vain  for  the  flap- 
hatted,  cigarette-smoking  horsemen  with  which  the 
West  of  his  boyhood  had  been  chiefly  peopled. 

Farther  along  toward  evening  the  great  range, 
which  had  been  visible  for  hours  in  the  westward 
vista,  began  to  define  itself  in  peaks  and  high,  bald 
shoulderings  of  wind-swept  mesas.  Here  was  some- 


A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  45 

thing  definite  and  tangible  for  the  stirring  under- 
man  to  lay  hold  upon.  Blount,  the  sober-minded, 
the  self-contained,  found  a  curious  transformation 
working  itself  out  in  quickened  pulses  and  exhila 
rating  nerve- tinglings.  Boston,  the  Law  School,  the 
East  of  the  narrow  walk-ways  and  the  still  narrower 
rut  of  custom  and  convention,  were  fading  into  a 
past  which  already  seemed  age-old  and  half  forgot 
ten.  He  threw  open  the  window  at  his  elbow  and 
drank  in  deep  inspirations  of  the  hill-sweeping  blast. 
It  was  sweet  in  his  nostrils,  and  the  keen  crispness 
of  it  was  as  fine  wine  in  his  blood.  After  all,  he  had 
been  but  a  sojourner  in  the  other  world,  and  this 
was  his  homeland. 

At  the  dining-car  dinner,  which  was  served  while 
the  higher  peaks  of  the  main  range  were  as  vast 
islands  floating  in  a  sea  of  crimson  and  gold,  Blount 
missed  the  man  of  many  troubles.  The  dining-car 
was  well  filled,  and,  though  the  faces  of  the  diners 
were  all  unfamiliar,  the  hum  of  talk,  the  hurrying 
of  the  waiters,  and  the  subdued  clamor  drowning 
itself  in  the  under-drone  of  the  drumming  wheels 
answered  well  enough  for  companionship.  There 
are  times  when  even  the  voice  of  a  friend  is  an  in 
trusion,  and  the  returning  exile  had  happed  upon 
one  of  them.  Largeness,  the  inspiring  breadth  of 
the  immensities,  was  what  he  craved  most;  and 
when  he  had  cut  the  many-coursed  dinner  short,  he 
hurried  back  to  his  Pullman  window,  hoping  that 
he  might  have  the  smoking-compartment  to  himself 
again. 


46     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

The  unspoken  wish  was  granted.  When  he  en 
tered  the  smoking-room  he  found  it  empty;  and, 
filling  his  cutty  pipe,  he  drew  the  cushioned  wicker 
chair  out  to  face  the  open  window.  Fresh  glimpses 
of  the  northward  landscape  shortly  brought  a  re 
newal  of  the  heart-stirrings;  and  when  he  finally 
had  the  longed-for  sight  of  a  bunch  of  grazing  cattle, 
with  the  solitary  night-herd  hanging  by  one  leg  in 
the  saddle  to  watch  the  passing  of  the  train,  the 
call  of  the  homeland  was  trumpeting  in  his  ears, 
and  he  would  have  given  anything  in  reason  to  be 
able  to  changes  places,  temporarily  at  least,  with 
the  care-free  horseman  whose  wiry,  muscular  figure 
was  struck  out  so  artistically  against  the  dun-colored 
hillside. 

"Would  I  really  do  such  a  thing  as  that?"  he 
asked  himself  half  incredulously,  when  the  night- 
herd  and  his  grazing  drove  had  become  only  a  pict 
uresque  memory;  and  out  of  the  heart-stirrings 
and  pulse-quickenings  came  the  answer:  "I  more 
than  half  believe  that  I  would — that  I'd  jump  at 
the  chance."  Then  he  added  regretfully:  "But 
there  isn't  going  to  be  any  chance." 

"Any  chance  to  do  what?"  rumbled  a  mellow 
voice  at  his  elbow,  and  Blount  turned  quickly  to 
find  that  a  big,  bearded  man,  smoking  an  abnor 
mally  corpulent  cigar,  had  come  in  to  take  his  seat 
on  the  divan. 

At  another  time  Blount,  the  conventional  Blount, 
would  have  been  self-conscious  and  embarrassed,  as 
any  human  being  is  when  he  is  caught  talking  to 


A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  47 

himself.  But  with  the  transformation  had  come  a 
battering  down  of  doors  in  the  house  of  the  broader 
fellowship,  and  he  laughed  good-naturedly. 

"You  caught  me  fairly/7  he  acknowledged.  "I 
thought  I  still  had  the  place  to  myself." 

"But  the  chance?  "  persisted  the  big  man,  looking 
him  over  appraisively.  "You  don't  look  like  a  man 
who  has  had  to  hang  round  on  the  aidges  hankerin' 
after  things  he  couldn't  get." 

"I  guess  I  haven't  had  to  do  that  very  often," 
was  the  reflective  rejoinder.  "But  a  mile  or  so 
back  we  passed  a  bunch  of  cattle,  with  the  night 
man  riding  watch;  I  was  just  saying  to  myself  that 
I'd  like  to  change  places  with  that  night-herd — only 
there  wasn't  going  to  be  any  chance." 

The  bearded  man's  laugh  was  a  deep-chested 
rumbling  suggestive  of  rocks  rolling  down  a  declivity. 

"Lordy  gracious!"  he  chuckled.  "If  you  was  to 
get  a  leg  over  a  bronc',  and  the  bronc'  should  find 
it  out —  Say,  I've  got  a  HT  blue  horse  out  on  my 
place  in  the  Antelopes  that'd  plumb  give  his  ears 
to  have  you  try  it;  he  shore  would.  You  take  my 
advice,  and  don't  you  go  huntin'  a  job  night-ridin' 
in  the  greasewood  hills.  Don't  you  do  it!" 

"I  assure  you  I  hadn't  thought  of  doing  it  for 
a  permanency.  But  just  for  a  bit  of  adventure, 
if  the  chance  should  offer  while  I'm  in  the  notion, 
I  believe  I'd  take  it.  I  haven't  ridden  a  cow-pony 
for  fourteen  years,  but  I  don't  believe  I've  lost  the 
knack  of  it." 

"Ho!"  said  the  big  man.     "Then  you  ain't  as 


48     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

much  of  a  tenderfoot  as  you  look  to  be.  Shake!" 
and  he  held  out  a  hand  as  huge  as  a  bear's  paw. 
Following  the  hand-grip  he  grew  confidential. 
"'Long  in  the  afternoon  I  stuck  my  head  in  at  the 
door  and  saw  you  chewin'  the  rag  with  a  thin-faced 
old  nester  that  couldn't  set  still  in  his  chair  while 
he  talked.  Know  him?" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Blount  promptly.  "He  has 
the  section  opposite  mine,  and  he  got  on  at  Omaha." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  want  to  know  him  if  I  was 
you,"  was  the  bearded  man's  comment.  Then: 
"Tryin'  to  get  you  to  invest  in  some  o'  his  proper 
ties?" 

"Oh,  no." 

"Well,  he  will,  if  he  gets  a  chance.  He'd  go  fur- 
der'n  that;  he'd  nail  you  up  to  the  cross  and  skin 
you  alive  if  there  was  any  money  in  it  for  him. 
His  name's  Simon  Peter,  and  it  ort  to  be  Judas. 
I  know  him  down  to  the  ground!" 

"Simon  Peter?"  said  Blount  inquiringly. 

"Ya-as;  Simon  Peter  Hathaway.  And  my  name's 
Griggs;  Griggs,  of  the  Antelopes,  back  o'  Carnadine 
—if  anybody  should  ask  you  who  give  you  your 
pointer  on  Simon  Peter  Judas.  I  don't  blacklist  no 
man  in  the  dark,  and  I've  said  a  heap  more  to  that 
old  ratter's  face  than  I've  ever  said  behind  his 
back.  Ump!  him  a-wrigglin'  in  that  chair  you're 
settin'  in  and  tryin'  to  fix  up  some  way  to  skin 
you!  Don't  tell  me!  I  know  blame'  well  what  he 
was  tryin'  to  do." 

Blount  listened  and  was  interested,  not  so  much 


A  FALSE   GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  49 

in  the  bit  of  gossip  as  in  the  big,  red-faced  ranch 
man,  who  so  evidently  had  a  grudge  to  pay  off. 

"I  am  not  likely  to  have  any  dealings  with  Mr. 
Hathaway,"  he  rejoined.  "And  I  must  do  him  the 
bare  justice  of  saying  that  he  wasn't  trying  to  sell 
me  anything.  The  shoe  was  on  the  other  foot.  He 
seemed  to  be  afraid  he  was  in  danger  of  losing  out, 
and  he  was  asking  my  advice." 

"S.  P.  Hathaway  lose  out?  Not  on  your  life,  my 
young  friend!  You  say  he  was  askin'  for  advice? 
You've  done  stirred  up  my  curiosity  a  whole  heap, 
and  I  reckon  you'll  have  to  tell  me  who  you  are 
before  it'll  ca'm  down  again." 

Blount  laughed.  "Mr.  Hathaway  thinks  I  am 
a  special  agent  for  the  Government,  travelling  on 
business  for  the  Forest  Service." 

"The  hell  he  does! "  exploded  the  big  man.  Then 
he  reached  over  and  laid  a  swollen  finger  on  Blount's 
knee.  "Say,  boy,  before  you  or  him  ever  gets  off 
this  train —  Sufferin'  Moses!  what  was  that?" 

The  break  came  upon  a  thunderous  crash  trans 
mitting  itself  from  car  to  car,  and  the  long,  heavy 
train  came  to  a  juggling  stop.  The  ranchman 
sprang  to  his  feet  with  an  alacrity  surprising  in  so 
huge  a  body  and  ducked  to  look  out  of  the  open 
window. 

"Twin  Buttes!"  he  gurgled.  "And,  say,  -it's  a 
wreck!  We've  hit  something  right  slap  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  yard!  Let's  make  a  break  for  the  scene 
of  the  confliggration  till  we  see  who's  killed!" 

Blount  followed  the  ranchman's  lead,  but  shortly 


50     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

lost  sight  of  the  burly  figure  in  the  crowd  of  curious 
passengers  pouring  from  the  hastily  opened  vesti 
bules.  Seen  at  closer  range,  the  accident  appeared 
to  be  disastrous  only  in  a  material  sense.  The 
heavy  "Pacific-type"  locomotive  had  stumbled  over 
the  tongue  of  a  split  switch,  leaving  the  rails  and 
making  a  blockading  barrier  of  itself  across  the 
tracks.  Nobody  was  hurt;  but  there  would  be  a 
delay  of  some  hours  before  the  track  could  be 
cleared. 

Finding  little  to  hold  him  in  the  spectacle  of  the 
derailed  locomotive,  Blount  strolled  on  through  the 
railroad  yard  to  the  station  and  the  town.  He  re 
membered  the  place  chiefly  by  its  name.  In  his 
boyhood  it  had  been  the  nearest  railroad  forward- 
ing-point  for  the  mines  at  Lewiston,  thirty  miles 
beyond  the  Lost  Hills.  Now,  as  it  appeared,  it 
had  become  a  lumber-shipping  station.  To  the  left 
of  the  railroad  there  were  numerous  sawmills,  each 
with  its  mountain  of  waste  dominated  by  a  black 
chimney,  screen-capped.  For  the  supply  of  logs  an 
enormous  flume  led  down  from  the  slopes  of  the 
forested  range  on  the  south,  a  trough-like  water- 
chute  out  of  which,  though  the  working-day  was 
ended,  the  great  logs  were  still  tumbling  in  an  in 
termittent  stream. 

North  of  the  town  the  valley  broke  away  into  a 
region  of  bare  mesas  dotted  with  rounded,  butte- 
like  hills,  with  the  buttressing  ranges  on  either  side 
to  lift  the  eastern  and  western  horizons.  The  north 
ern  prospect  enabled  Blount  to  place  himself  accu- 


A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  51 

rately,  and  the  tide  of  remembrance  swept  strongly 
in  upon  him.  Some  forty-odd  miles  away  to  the 
northeast,  just  beyond  the  horizon-lifting  lesser 
range,  lay  the  "short-grass"  region  in  which  he  had 
spent  the  happy  boyhood.  An  hour's  gallop  through 
the  hills  to  the  westward  the  level  rays  of  the  set 
ting  sun  would  be  playing  upon  the  little  station 
of  Painted  Hat,  the  one-time  shipping-point  for  the 
home  ranch.  And  half-way  between  Painted  Hat 
and  the  "  Circle-Bar,"  nestling  in  the  hollowed  hands 
of  the  mountains,  were  the  horse-corrals  of  one  Deb- 
bleby,  a  true  hermit  of  the  hills,  and  the  boy  Evan's 
earliest  school-master  in  the  great  book  of  Nature. 

Blount's  one  meliorating  softness  during  the  years 
of  exile  had  manifested  itself  in  an  effort  to  keep 
track  of  Debbleby.  He  knew  that  the  old  horse- 
breeder  was  still  alive,  and  that  he  was  still  herding 
his  brood  mares  at  the  ranch  on  the  Pigskin.  The 
young  man,  fresh  from  the  well-calculated  East, 
threw  up  his  head  and  sniffed  the  keen,  cool  breeze 
sweeping  down  from  the  northern  hills.  He  was 
not  given  to  impulsive  plan-changing.  On  the  con 
trary,  he  was  slow  to  resolve  and  proportionately 
tenacious  of  the  determination  once  made.  But  the 
stirring  of  boyish  memories  accounted  for  some 
thing;  and  in  the  sanest  brain  there  are  sleeping 
cells  of  irresponsibility  ready  to  spring  alive  at  the 
touch  of  suggestion.  What  if  he  should 

He  sat  down  upon  the  edge  of  the  station  plat 
form  and  thought  it  out  deliberately.  Since  it  would 
be  hours  before  the  tracks  could  be  cleared  and  the 


52     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

rail  journey  resumed,  what  was  to  prevent  him  from 
taking  an  immediate  and  delightful  plunge  into  the 
region  of  the  heart-stirring  recollections?  Doubtless 
old  Jason  Debbleby  was  at  this  moment  sitting  on  the 
door-step  of  his  lonely  ranch-house  in  the  Pigskin 
foot-hills,  smoking  his  corn-cob  pipe  and,  quite  pos 
sibly,  wondering  what  had  become  of  the  boy  whom 
he  had  taught  to  "rope  down"  and  saddle  and  ride. 
Blount  estimated  the  distance  as  he  remembered  it. 
With  a  hired  horse  he  might  reach  Debbleby 's  by 
late  bedtime;  and  after  a  night  spent  with  the  old 
ranchman  he  could  ride  on  across  the  big  mesa  to 
the  capital. 

Another  ineffectual  attempt  to  find  out  how  soon 
the  relief  train  from  the  capital  might  be  expected 
decided  Blount.  Arranging  with  the  Pullman  con 
ductor  to  have  his  hand-luggage  left  in  Gantry's 
office  at  the  capital,  the  man  in  search  of  his  boy 
hood  crossed  quickly  to  a  livery-stable  opposite  the 
station,  bargained  for  a  saddle-horse,  borrowed  a 
poncho  and  a  pair  of  leggings,  and  prepared  to 
break  violently,  for  the  moment  at  least,  with  all 
the  civilized  traditions.  He  would  go  and  see  Deb 
bleby — drop  in  upon  the  old  horse-breeder  without 
warning,  and  thus  get  his  first  revivified  impression 
of  the  homeland  unmixed  with  any  of  the  disappoint 
ing  changes  which  were  doubtless  awaiting  him  at 
the  real  journey's  end. 

Now  it  chanced  that  the  livery-stable  was  an  ad 
junct  to  the  single  hotel  in  the  small  sawmill  town, 
and  as  Blount  was  mounting  to  ride  he  saw  the  thin- 


A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  53 

faced  man,  whom  the  ranchman,  Griggs,  had  named 
for  him,  standing  on  the  porch  of  the  hotel  in  earnest 
talk  with  three  others  who,  from  their  appearance, 
might  have  figured  either  as  "timber  jacks"  or  cow 
boys.  Blount  was  on  the  point  of  recognizing  his 
companion  of  the  Pullman  smoking-compartment  as 
he  rode  past  the  hotel  to  take  the  trail  to  the  north 
ward,  but  a  curious  conviction  that  the  gentleman 
with  the  bird-of-prey  eyes  was  making  him  the  sub 
ject  of  the  earnest  talk  with  the  three  men  of  doubt 
ful  occupation  restrained  him.  A  moment  later, 
when  he  looked  back  from  the  crossing  of  the 
railroad  track,  he  saw  that  all  four  of  the  men  on 
the  porch  were  watching  him.  This  he  saw;  and 
if  the  backward  glance  had  been  prolonged  for  a 
single  instant  he  might  also  have  seen  a  big,  barrel- 
bodied  man  with  a  red  face  stumbling  out  of  the  side 
door  of  the  shack  hotel  to  make  vigorous  and  com 
manding  signals  to  stop  him.  But  this  he  missed. 

There  was  an  excuse  for  the  oversight  as  well  as 
for  the  speedy  blotting  out  of  the  picture  of  the 
four  men  watching  him  from  the  porch  of  the  hotel. 
With  a  fairly  good  horse  under  him,  with  the  squeak 
of  the  saddle-leather  in  his  ears  and  the  smell  of  it 
in  his  nostrils,  and  with  the  wide  world  of  the  im 
mensities  into  which  to  ride  unhampered  and  free, 
the  lost  boyhood  was  found.  Not  for  the  most  soul- 
satisfying  professional  triumph  the  fettered  East 
could  offer  him  would  he  have  curtailed  the  free- 
reined  flight  into  the  silent  wilderness  by  a  single 
mile. 


54     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

For  the  first  half-hour  of  the  invigorating  gallop 
the  fugitive  from  civilization  had  the  sunset  glow  to 
help  hun  find  the  trail.  After  that  the  moon  rose, 
and  the  landmarks,  which  had  seemed  more  or  less 
familiar  in  daylight,  lost  their  remembered  featur- 
ings.  During  the  first  few  miles  the  trail  had 
led  broadly  across  the  table-land,  with  the  east 
ern  mountains  withdrawing  and  the  Lost  River 
Range  looming  larger  as  its  lofty  sky-line  was  struck 
out  sharply  against  the  sunset  horizon.  Farther  on, 
in  the  transition  darkness  between  sunset  and  moon- 
rise,  the  trail  disappeared  entirely;  but  so  long  as 
he  was  sure  of  the  general  direction,  Blount  held  on 
and  gave  the  tireless  little  bronco  a  loose  rein.  The 
Debbleby  ranch  lay  among  the  farther  foot-hills 
of  the  western  range,  with  the  broad  gulch  of  the 
Pigskin  cutting  a  plain  highway  through  the  moun 
tains.  If  he  could  find  one  of  the  head- water  streams 
of  the  Pigskin,  all  of  which  took  their  rise  in  the 
gulches  of  the  mesa,  there  could  be  no  danger  of 
losing  the  way. 

It  was  some  little  time  after  he  had  left  the 
shoulderings  of  the  eastern  range  behind  that  a  sin 
gular  thing  happened.  Far  away  on  his  right  he 
heard  the  sound  of  galloping  hoofs.  Though  the 
moon  was  nearly  full  and  the  treeless  landscape 
was  bare  of  any  kind  of  cover,  he  could  not  make 
out  the  horseman  who  was  evidently  passing  him 
and  going  in  the  same  direction.  At  first  he  thought 
it  was  some  one  who  was  making  a  detour  to  avoid 
him.  Then  he  smiled  at  the  absurdity  of  the  guess 


A  FALSE  GALLOP  OF  MEMORIES  55 

and  concluded  that  he  himself  was  off  the  trail. 
This  conclusion  was  confirmed  a  little  later  when 
two  other  travellers,  announcing  themselves  to  the 
ear  as  the  first  one  had,  and  also,  like  the  first,  invis 
ible  to  the  sharpest  eye-sweep  of  the  moonlit  plain, 
passed  him  at  speed. 

After  that  Blount  had  the  solitudes  and  vast- 
nesses  to  himself,  and  it  was  not  until  after  the 
mesa-land  had  been  crossed  without  a  sign  of  a 
water-leading  gulch  to  guide  him  to  the  Pigskin, 
and  the  bronco  was  patiently  picking  its  way  through 
the  hogback  of  the  western  range,  that  the  boyish 
thing  he  had  been  led  to  do  took  shape  as  an  advent 
ure  which  might  have  discomforting  consequences. 

For,  after  the  hired  bronco  had  wandered  aim 
lessly  through  many  gulches  and  had  climbed  a  good 
half-score  of  the  hogback  hills,  the  young  man  from 
the  East  admitted  that  the  boyhood  memories  were 
hopelessly  and  altogether  at  fault  in  the  deceptive 
moonlight.  Blount  gave  the  horse  a  breathing  halt 
on  one  of  the  hogbacks  and  tried  to  reconstruct  the 
puzzling  hills  into  some  featuring  that  he  could  re 
member.  The  effort  was  fruitless.  He  was  very 
thoroughly  and  painstakingly  lost. 


IV 

THE  HIGHBINDERS 

WHEN  the  three  men  who  had  pulled  him  from 
his  horse  and  tied  him  hand  and  foot  had  withdrawn 
to  the  farther  side  of  the  tiny  camp-fire  to  wrangle 
morosely  over  what  should  be  done  with  him,  Evan 
Blount  found  it  simply  impossible  to  realize  that 
they  were  actually  discussing,  as  one  of  the  expedi 
ents,  the  propriety  of  knocking  him  on  the  head 
and  flinging  his  body  into  the  near-by  canyon. 

The  difficulty  of  comprehension  lay  in  the  crude 
grotesqueness  of  the  thing  that  had  happened.  Five 
minutes  earlier  he  had  been  riding  peacefully  up 
the  trail  in  the  moonlight,  wondering  how  thoroughly 
he  was  lost  and  how  much  farther  it  was  to  Debble- 
by's.  Then,  at  a  sudden  sharp  turn  in  the  canyon 
bridle-path,  he  had  stumbled  upon  the  camp-fire, 
had  heard  an  explosive  "Hands  up!"  and  had 
found  himself  confronted  by  three  men,  with  one  of 
the  three  covering  him  with  a  sawed-ofT  Winchester. 
From  that  to  the  unhorsing  and  the  binding  had 
been  merely  a  rough-and-tumble  half-minute,  inas 
much  as  he  was  unarmed  and  the  surprise  had  been 
complete;  but  the  grotesquery  remained. 

56 


THE  HIGHBINDERS  57 

Since  his  captors  had  as  yet  made  no  attempt  to 
rob  him,  he  could  only  surmise  that  some  incred 
ibly  foolish  mistake  had  been  made.  But  when  he 
remembered  the  three  invisible  horsemen  who  had 
passed  him  on  the  broad  mesa  he  was  not  so  certain 
about  the  mistake.  Most  naturally,  his  thoughts 
went  back  to  the  little  episode  on  the  hotel  porch. 
The  passing  glance  he  had  given  to  the  three  men 
with  whom  the  fourth  man,  Hathaway,  had  been 
talking  did  not  enable  him  to  identify  them  with 
the  three  who  were  sourly  discussing  his  fate  at  the 
near-by  fire;  none  the  less,  the  conclusion  was  fairly 
obvious.  Thus  far  he  had  been  either  too  busy  or 
too  bewildered  to  break  in;  but  when  the  more  mur 
derous  of  the  expedients  was  apparently  about  to  be 
adopted,  he  decided  that  it  was  high  time  to  try  to 
find  out  why  he  was  to  be  effaced.  Whereupon  he 
called  across  to  the  group  at  the  fire. 

"Without  wishing  to  interfere  with  any  arrange 
ments  you  gentlemen  are  making,  I  shall  be  obliged 
if  you  wilt  tell  me  why  you  think  you  have  found 
it  necessary  to  murder  me." 

"You  know  mighty  good  and  well  why  there's 
one  too  many  of  you  on  Lost  River,  jest  at  this 
stage  o'  the  game,"  growled  the  hard-faced  spokes 
man  who  had  held  the  Winchester  while  his  two 
accomplices  were  doing  the  unhorsing  and  the  bind 
ing. 

"But  I  don't,"  insisted  Blount  good-naturedly. 
"  So  far  as  I  know,  there  is  only  one  of  me — on  Lost 
River  or  anywhere  else." 


58     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"That'll  do  for  you;  it  ain't  your  put-in,  nohow," 
was  the  gruff  decision  of  the  court;  but  Blount  was 
too  good  a  lawyer  to  be  silenced  thus  easily. 

"Perhaps  you  might  not  especially  regret  killing 
the  wrong  man,  but  in  the  present  case  I  am  very 
sure  I  should,"  he  went  on.  And  then:  "Are  you 
quite  sure  you've  got  the  right  man?" 

"The  boss  knows  who  you  are — that's  enough 
for  us." 

"The  boss?"  questioned  Blount. 

"Yas,  I  said  the  boss;  now  hold  your  jaw!" 

Blount  caught  at  the  word.  In  a  flash  the  talk 
with  Gantry  on  the  veranda  of  the  Winnebasset 
Club  flicked  into  his  mind. 

"There  is  only  one  boss  in  this  State,"  he  coun 
tered  coolly.  "And  I  am  very  sure  he  hasn't  given 
you  orders  to  kill  me." 

"What's  that?"  demanded  the  spokesman. 

Blount  repeated  his  assertion,  adding  jocularly: 
"Perhaps  you'd  better  call  up  headquarters  and 
ask  your  boss  if  he  wants  you  to  kill  the  son  of  his 
boss." 

At  this  the  gun-holder  came  around  the  fire  to 
stand  before  his  prisoner. 

"Say,  pal — this  ain't  my  night  for  kiddin',  and 
it  hadn't  ort  to  be  your'n,"  he  remarked  grimly. 
"The  boss  didn't  say  you  was  to  be  rubbed  out — 
they  never  do.  But  I  reckon  it  would  save  a  heap 
o'  trouble  if  you  was  rubbed  out." 

"On  the  contrary,  I'm  inclined  to  think  it  would 
make  a  heap  of  trouble — for  you  and  your  friends, 


THE  HIGHBINDERS  59 

and  quite  probably  for  the  man  or  men  who  sent 
you  to  waylay  me.  But,  apart  from  all  that,  youVe 
got  hold  of  the  wrong  man,  as  I  told  you  a  moment 
ago." 

"No,  by  grapples!  I  hain't.  I  saw  you  in  day 
light.  If  there's  been  any  fumblin'  done,  I  hain't 
done  it.  So  you  see  it  ain't  any  o'  my  funeral." 

"Think  not?"  said  Blount. 

"I  know  it  ain't.  Orders  is  orders,  and  you 
don't  git  over  into  them  woods  on  Upper  Lost 
Creek  with  no  papers  to  serve  on  nobody:  see?" 

It  was  just  here  that  the  light  of  complete  under 
standing  dawned  upon  Blount;  and  with  it  came 
the  disconcerting  chill  of  a  conviction  overthrown. 
As  a  theorist  he  had  always  scoffed  at  the  idea  that 
a  corporation,  which  is  a  creature  of  the  law,  could 
afford  to  be  an  open  law-breaker.  But  here  was  a 
very  striking  refutation  of  the  charitable  assump 
tion.  His  smoking-room  companion  of  the  Pullman 
car  was  doubtless  one  of  the  timber-pillagers  who 
had  been  cutting  on  the  public  domain.  To  such 
a  man  an  agent  of  the  National  Forest  Service  was 
an  enemy  to  be  hoodwinked,  if  possible,  or,  in  the 
last  resort,  to  be  disposed  of  as  expeditiously  as 
might  be,  and  Blount  saw  that  he  had  only  him 
self  to  blame  for  his  present  predicament,  since  he 
had  allowed  the  man  to  believe  that  he  was  a  Gov 
ernment  emissary.  Having  this  clew  to  the  mystery, 
his  course  was  a  little  easier  to  steer. 

"I  have  no  papers  of  the  kind  you  think  I  have, 
as  you  can  readily  determine  by  searching  me,"  he 


60     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

said.  "My  name  is  Blount,  and  I  am  the  son  of 
ex-Senator  David  Blount,  of  this  State.  Now  what 
are  you  going  to  do  with  me?" 

"What's  that  you  say?"  grated  the  outlaw. 

"You  heard  what  I  said.  Go  ahead  and  heave 
me  into  the  canyon  if  you  are  willing  to  stand  for 
it  afterward." 

The  hard-faced  man  turned  without  replying  and 
went  back  to  the  other  two  at  the  fire.  Blount 
caught  only  a  word  now  and  again  of  the  low-toned, 
wrangling  argument  that  followed.  But  from  the 
overheard  word  or  two  he  gathered  that  there  were 
still  some  leanings  toward  the  sound  old  maxim 
which  declares  that  "dead  men  tell  no  tales." 
When  the  decision  was  finally  reached,  he  was  left 
to  guess  its  purport.  Without  any  explanation  the 
thongs  were  taken  from  his  wrists  and  ankles,  and 
he  was  helped  upon  his  horse.  After  his  captors 
were  mounted,  the  new  status  was  defined  by  the 
spokesman  in  curt  phrase. 

"You  go  along  quiet  with  us,  and  you  don't  make 
no  bad  breaks,  see?  I  more'n  half  believe  you  been 
lyin'  to  me,  but  I'm  goin'  to  give  you  a  chance  to 
prove  up.  If  you  don't  prove  up,  you  pass  out— 
that's  all.  Now  git  in  line  and  hike  out;  and  if 
you're  countin'  on  makin'  a  break,  jest  ricollect  that 
a  chunk  o'  lead  out  of  a  Winchester  kin  travel  a 
heap  faster  them  your  cayuse." 

If  Blount  had  not  already  lost  all  sense  of  famil 
iarity  with  his  surroundings,  the  devious  mountain 
trail  taken  by  his  captors  would  soon  have  con- 


THE  HIGHBINDERS  61 

vinced  him  that  the  boyhood  memories  were  no 
longer  to  be  trusted.  Up  and  down,  the  trail  zig 
zagged  and  climbed,  always  penetrating  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains.  At  times 
Blount  lost  even  the  sense  of  direction;  lost  it  so 
completely  that  the  high-riding  moon  seemed  to  be 
in  the  wrong  quarter  of  the  heavens. 

For  the  first  few  miles  the  trail  was  so  difficult 
that  speed  was  out  of  the  question;  but  later,  in 
crossing  a  high-lying  valley,  the  horses  were  pushed. 
Beyond  the  valley  there  were  more  mountains,  and 
half-way  through  this  second  range  the  trail  plunged 
into  a  deep,  cleft-like  canyon  with  a  brawling  torrent 
for  its  pathfinder.  Once  more  Blount  lost  the  sense 
of  direction,  and  when  the  canyon  trail  came  out 
upon  broad  uplands  and  became  a  country  road 
with  bordering  ranches  watered  by  irrigation  canals, 
into  which  the  mountain  torrent  was  diverted,  there 
were  no  recognizable  landmarks  to  tell  him  whither 
his  captors  were  leading  him. 

As  he  was  able  to  determine  by  holding  his 
watch,  face  up,  to  the  moonlight,  it  was  nearly  mid 
night  when  the  silent  cavalcade  of  four  turned  aside 
from  the  main  road  into  an  avenue  of  spreading 
cottonwood  trees.  At  its  head  the  avenue  became 
a  circular  driveway;  and  fronting  the  driveway  a 
stately  house,  with  a  massive  Georgian  facade  and 
colonnaded  portico,  flung  its  shadow  across  the 
white  gravel  of  the  carriage  approach. 

There  were  tights  in  one  wing  of  the  house,  and  an 
other  appeared  behind  the  fan-light  in  the  entrance- 


62     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

hall  when  the  leader  of  the  three  highbinders  had 
tramped  up  the  steps  and  touched  the  bell-push. 
Blount  had  a  fleeting  glimpse  of  a  black  head 
with  a  fringe  of  snowy  wool  when  the  door  was 
opened,  but  he  did  not  hear  what  was  said.  After 
the  negro  serving-man  disappeared  there  was  a 
little  wait.  At  the  end  of  the  interval  the  door 
was  opened  wide,  and  Blount  had  a  gruff  order  to 
dismount. 

What  he  saw  when  he  stood  on  the  door-mat 
beside  his  captor  merely  added  mystery  to  mystery. 
Just  within  the  luxuriously  furnished  hall,  where 
the  light  of  the  softly  shaded  hall  lantern  served 
to  heighten  the  artistic  effect  of  her  red  house- 
gown,  stood  a  woman — a  lady,  and  evidently  the 
mistress  of  the  Georgian  mansion.  She  was  small 
and  dark,  with  brown  eyes  that  were  almost  child 
like  in  their  winsomeness;  a  woman  who  might 
be  twenty,  or  thirty,  or  any  age  between.  Beauti 
ful  she  was  not,  Blount  decided,  comparing  her  in 
stantly,  as  he  did  all  women,  with  Patricia  Anners; 
but —  He  was  not  given  time  to  add  the  quali 
fying  phrase  or  to  prepare  himself  for  what  was 
coming. 

"What  is  it,  Barto?"  the  little  lady  asked,  turn 
ing  to  the  man  with  the  gun. 

The  reply  was  direct  and  straight  to  the  purpose. 

"Excuse  me;  but  I  jest  wanted  to  ask  if  you  know 
this  here  young  feller.  He's  been  allowin'  to  me 
th't  he  is- 

"Of  course/'  she  said  quickly,  and  stepping  for- 


THE  HIGHBINDERS  63 

ward  she  gave  her  hand  and  a  welcome  to  the  dazed 
one.  "Please  come  in;  we  have  been  expecting 
you."  Then  again  to  the  man  with  the  Winchester: 
"Thank  you  so  much,  Barto,  for  showing  the  gen 
tleman  the  way  to  Wartrace  Hall." 

It  was  all  done  so  quietly  that  Blount  was  still 
unconsciously  holding  the  hand  of  welcoming  while 
his  late  captors  were  riding  away  down  the  cotton- 
wood-shaded  avenue.  When  he  realized  what  he 
was  doing  he  was  as  nearly  embarrassed  as  a  self- 
contained  young  lawyer  could  well  be.  But  his 
impromptu  hostess  quickly  set  him  at  ease. 

"You  needn't  make  any  explanations,"  she  has 
tened  to  say,  smiling  up  at  him  and  gently  disen 
gaging  the  hand  which  he  was  only  now  remember 
ing  that  he  had  forgotten  to  relinquish.  "Naturally, 
I  inferred  that  you  were  in  trouble,  and  that  your 
safety  depended  in  some  sense  upon  my  answer. 
Were  you  in  trouble?  " 

Blount  perceived  immediately  how  utterly  im 
possible  it  would  be  to  make  her,  or  any  one  else, 
understand  the  boyish  impulse  which  had  prompted 
him  to  leave  his  train,  or  the  curious  difficulty  into 
which  the  impulse  had  precipitated  him.  So  his  ex 
planation  scarcely  explained. 

"  I  was  on  my  way  to  a  ranch — that  is,  to  the  capi 
tal — when  these  men  held  me  up,"  he  stammered. 
"They — they  mistook  me  for  some  one  else,  I  think, 
and  for  reasons  best  known  to  themselves  they 
brought  me  here.  If  you  could  direct  me  to  some 
place  where  I  can  get  a  night's  lodging " 


64     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"There  is  nothing  like  a  tavern  within  twenty 
miles  of  here,"  she  broke  in;  "nor  is  there  any 
house  within  that  radius  which  would  refuse  you  a 
night's  shelter,  Mr.— 

Blount  made  a  quick  dive  for  his  card-case,  found 
it,  and  hastened  to  introduce  himself  by  name.  She 
took  the  bit  of  pasteboard,  and,  since  she  scarcely 
glanced  at  the  engraved  line  on  it,  he  found  himself 
wholly  unable  to  interpret  her  smile. 

"The  card  is  hardly  necessary/7  she  said;  and 
then,  to  his  complete  bewilderment:  "You  are  very 
much  like  your  father,  Mr.  Blount." 

"You  know  my  father?"  he  exclaimed. 

She  laughed  softly.  "Every  one  knows  the  sen 
ator,"  she  returned,  "and  I  can  assure  you  that 
his  son  is  heartily  welcome  under  this  roof.  Uncle 
Barnabas" — to  the  ancient  serving-man  who  was 
still  hovering  in  the  background — "have  Mr. 
Blount's  horse  put  up  and  the  blue  room  made 
ready." 

Blount  followed  his  still  unnamed  hostess  obedi 
ently  when  she  led  the  way  to  the  lighted  library 
in  the  wing  of  the  great  house. 

"Uncle  Barnabas  will  come  for  you  in  a  little 
while,"  she  told  him,  playing  the  part  of  the  gra 
cious  lady  to  the  line  and  letter.  "In  the  mean 
time  you  must  let  me  make  you  a  cup  of  tea.  I 
am  sure  you  must  be  needing  it  after  having  ridden 
so  far.  Take  the  easy-chair,  and  we  can  talk  com 
fortably  while  the  kettle  is  boiling.  Are  you  new 
to  the  West,  Mr.  Blount,  or  is  this  only  a  return 


THE  HIGHBINDERS  65 

to  your  own?  The  senator  is  always  talking  about 
you,  you  know;  but  he  is  so  inordinately  proud  of 
you  that  he  forgets  to  tell  us  all  the  really  interest 
ing  things  that  we  want  to  know/' 

The  serving-man  took  his  own  time  about  coming 
back;  so  long  a  time  that  Blount  forgot  that  it  was 
past  midnight,  that  he  was  a  guest  in  a  strange 
house,  and  that  he  still  had  not  learned  the  name 
of  his  entertainer.  For  all  this  forgetfulness  the 
little  lady  with  the  dark-brown  eyes  was  directly 
responsible.  Almost  before  he  realized  it,  Blount 
found  himself  chatting  with  her  as  if  he  had  always 
known  her,  making  rapid  strides  on  the  way  to  con 
fidence  and  finding  her  alertly  responsive  in  what 
ever  field  the  talk  happened  to  fall.  Apparently 
she  knew  the  world — his  world — better  than  he  knew 
it  himself:  she  had  summered  on  the  North  Shore 
and  wintered  in  Washington.  She  knew  Paris,  and 
when  the  conversation  touched  upon  the  Italian 
art-galleries  he  was  led  to  wonder  if  he  had  gone 
through  Italy  with  his  eyes  shut.  At  the  next  turn 
of  the  talk  he  was  forced  to  admit  that  not  even 
Patricia  herself  could  speak  more  intelligently  of  the 
English  social  problem;  and  when  it  came  to  the 
vital  questions  of  the  American  moment  he  gasped 
again  and  wondered  if  he  were  awake — if  it  could 
be  possible  that  this  out-of-place  Georgian  mansion 
and  its  charming  mistress  could  be  part  and  parcel 
of  the  West  which  had  so  far  outgrown  the  boyhood 
memories. 

Since  all  things  mundane  must  have  an  end,  the 


66     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

old  butler  with  the  white-fringed  head  came  at  last 
to  show  him  the  way  to  his  luxurious  lodgings  on 
the  second  floor  of  the  mansion.  With  a  touch  of 
hospitality  which  carried  Blount  back  to  his  one 
winter  in  the  South,  the  hostess  went  with  him  as 
far  as  the  stair-foot,  and  her  "Good-night"  was 
still  ringing  musically  in  his  ears  when  the  old  negro 
lighted  the  candles  in  the  guest-room,  put  another 
stick  of  wood  on  the  small  fire  that  was  crackling 
and  snapping  cheerfully  on  the  hearth,  and  bobbed 
and  bowed  his  way  to  the  door.  Blount  saw  his 
last  chance  for  better  information  vanishing  for  the 
night,  and  once  more  broke  with  the  traditions. 

"  Uncle  Barnabas,  before  you  go,  suppose  you  tell 
me  where  I  am,"  he  suggested.  "Whose  house  is 
this?" 

The  old  man  stopped  on  the  threshold,  chuckling 
gleefully.  "A-ain't  you  know  dat,  sah? — a-ain't  de 
mistis  done  tell  you  dat?  You's  at  Wa'trace  Hall 
— Mahsteh  Majah's  new  country-house;  yes,  sah; 
dat's  whah  you  is — kee-hee!" 

"And  who  is  ' Master  Major'?"  pressed  Blount, 
whose  bewilderment  grew  with  every  fresh  attempt 
to  dispel  it. 

"A-ain't  she  tell  you  dat? — kee-hee!  Ev'body 
knows  Mahsteh  Majah;  yes,  sah.  If  de  mistis 
ain't  tell  you,  ol'  Barnabas  ain't  gwine  to — no,  sah. 
Ah'll  bring  yo'-all's  coffee  in  de  mawnin';  yes,  sah 
— good-night,  sah — kee-hee!"  And  the  door  closed 
silently  upon  the  wrinkled  old  face  and  the  bob 
bing  head. 


THE  HIGHBINDERS  67 

Having  nothing  else  to  do,  Blount  went  to  bed, 
but  sleep  came  reluctantly.  Life  is  said  to  be  full 
of  paper  walls  thinly  dividing  the  commonplace 
from  the  amazing;  and  he  decided  that  he  had 
surely  burst  through  one  of  them  when  he  had  given 
place  to  the  vagrant  impulse  prompting  him  to  go 
horseback-riding  when  he  should  have  gone  com 
fortably  to  bed  in  his  sleeper  to  wait  for  the  track- 
clearing. 

Whither  had  a  curiously  bizarre  fate  led  him? 
Where  was  "Wartrace  Hall,"  and  who  was  "Mahs- 
teh  Majah"?  Who  was  the  winsome  little  lady 
who  looked  as  if  she  might  be  twenty,  and  had 
all  the  wit  and  wisdom  of  the  ages  at  her  tongue's 
end — who  had  held  him  so  nearly  spellbound  over 
the  teacups  that  he  had  entirely  lost  sight  of  every 
thing  but  his  hospitable  welcome? 

These  and  kindred  speculations  kept  him  awake 
for  a  long  time  after  the  door  had  closed  behind 
the  ancient  negro;  and  he  was  just  dropping  off 
into  his  first  loss  of  consciousness  when  the  familiar 
purring  of  a  motor-car  aroused  him.  There  was  a 
window  at  his  bed's  head,  and  he  reached  over  and 
drew  the  curtain.  The  view  gave  upon  the  avenue 
of  cottonwoods  and  the  circular  carriage  approach. 
A  touring-car,  with  its  powerful  head-lights  paling 
the  white  radiance  of  the  moon,  was  drawn  up  at 
the  steps,  and  he  had  a  glimpse  of  a  big  man, 
swathed  from  head  to  heel  in  a  dust-coat,  descend 
ing  from  the  tonneau. 

"I  suppose  that  will  be  'Mahsteh  Majah/"  he 


68     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

mused  sleepily.  "That's  why  the  little  lady  was 
sitting  up  so  late — she  was  waiting  for  him."  Then 
to  the  thronging  queries  threatening  to  return  and 
keep  him  awake:  "Scat! — go  away!  call  it  a  pipe- 
dream  and  let  me  go  to  sleep!" 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL 

IN  his  most  imaginative  moments,  Evan  Blount 
had  never  prefigured  a  home-coming  to  coincide  in 
any  detail  of  it  with  the  reality. 

When  he  opened  his  eyes  on  the  morning  follow 
ing  the  night  of  singular  adventures,  the  sun  was 
shining  brightly  in  at  the  bed's-head  window,  a 
cheerful  fire  was  blazing  on  the  hearth,  and  his 
father,  a  little  heavier,  a  little  grayer,  but  with  the 
same  ruggedly  strong  face  and  kindly  eyes,  was 
standing  at  his  bedside. 

"Father!" — and  "Evan,  boy!"  were  the  simple 
words  of  greeting;  but  the  mighty  hand-grip  which 
went  with  them  was  for  the  younger  man  a  con 
firmation  of  the  filial  hope  and  a  heart-warming 
promise  for  the  future.  Following  instantly,  there 
came  a  rush  of  mingled  emotions:  of  astoundment 
that  he  had  recognized  no  familiar  landmark  in  the 
midnight  faring  through  the  hills  or  on  the  ap 
proach  to  the  home  of  his  childhood;  of  something 
akin  to  keen  regret  that  the  old  had  given  place  so 
thoroughly  and  completely  to  the  new;  of  a  feeling 
bordering  on  chagrin  that  he  had  been  surprised 

69 


70     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

into  accepting  the  hospitable  advances  of  a  woman 
whom  he  had  been  intending  to  avoid,  and  for  whom 
he  had  hitherto  cherished — and  meant  to  cherish — 
a  settled  aversion. 

But  at  the  hand-gripping  moment  there  was  no 
time  for  a  nice  weighing  of  emotions.  He  was  in 
his  father's  house;  the  home-coming,  some  phases 
of  which  he  had  vaguely  dreaded,  was  a  fact  ac 
complished,  and  the  new  life — the  life  which  must 
be  lived  without  Patricia — was  fairly  begun.  Also, 
there  were  many  arrears  to  be  brought  up. 

"Intuition,  on  the  manward  side  of  it  at  least, 
doesn't  go,"  he  was  saying  with  half-boyish  candor. 
"I  was  awake  last  night  when  you  drove  home  in 
the  motor,  and  I  looked  out  of  the  window  and  saw 
you  as  you  came  up  the  steps.  According  to  the 
psychics,  there  ought  to  have  been  some  inward 
stirrings  of  recognition,  but  there  weren't — not  a 
single  thrill.  Did  the  little— er— did  Mrs.  Blount 
tell  you  that  I  was  here?" 

"She  did  so;  but  she  couldn't  tell  me  much  more. 
Say,  son,  how  on  top  of  earth  did  you  happen  to 
blow  in  at  midnight,  with  Jack  Bar  to  for  your  herd 
leader?" 

"It's  a  fairy  tale,  and  you  won't  believe  it — of  a 
Blount,"  was  the  laughing  reply.  "I  left  Boston 
Monday,  and  should  have  reached  the  capital  last 
night.  But  my  train  was  laid  out  by  a  yard  wreck 
at  Twin  Buttes  just  before  dark,  and  I  left  it  and 
took  to  the  hills — horseback.  Don't  ask  me  why 
I  did  such  a  thing  as  that;  I  can  only  say  that  the 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  71 

smeM  of  the  sage-brush  got  into  my  blood  and  I 
simply  had  to  do  it." 

The  old  cattle-king  was  standing  with  his  feet 
planted  wide  apart  and  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets. 
"You  hired  a  horse!"  he  chuckled,  with  the  humor 
ous  wrinkles  coming  and  going  at  the  corners  of  the 
kindly  eyes.  "Did  you  have  the  nerve  to  think 
you  were  going  to  climb  down  from  a  three-legged 
stool  in  a  Boston  law  office  one  day  and  ride  the 
fifty  miles  from  Twin  Buttes  to  the  capital  the 
next?" 

"Oh,  no;  I  wasn't  altogether  daft.  But  knowing 
where  I  was,  I  did  think  I  could  ride  out  to  Deb- 
bleby's.  So  I  hired  the  bronco  and  set  out — and 
that  reminds  me:  the  horse  will  have  to  be  sent 
back  to  the  liveryman  in  Twin  Buttes,  some  way." 

"Never  mind  the  cayuse.  Shackford  would  have 
made  you  a  present  of  it  outright  if  you  had  told 
him  who  you  were.  Go  on  with  your  story.  It 
listens  like  a  novel." 

"I  took  the  general  direction  all  right  on  leaving 
Twin  Buttes,  and  kept  it  until  I  got  among  the  Lost 
River  hogbacks.  But  after  that  I  was  pretty  success 
fully  lost.  I'm  ashamed  to  tell  it,  but  about  half 
of  the  time  the  moon  didn't  seem  to  be  in  the  right 
place." 

"Lost,  were  you?  And  Jack  Barto  found  you?" 
queried  the  father. 

"Barto  hadn't  lost  me  to  any  appreciable  extent," 
was  the  half -humorous  emendation.  And  then: 
"Who  is  this  ubiquitous  Barto  who  goes  around 


72     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

playing  the  hold-up  one  minute  and  the  good  angel 
the  next?" 

"He  is  a  sort  of  general  utility  man  for  Hathaway, 
the  head  pusher  of  the  Twin  Buttes  Lumber  Com 
pany.  He  is  supposed  to  be  a  timber-cruiser  and 
log-sealer,  but  I  reckon  he  doesn't  work  very  hard 
at  his  trade.  Down  in  the  lower  wards  of  New  York 
they'd  call  him  a  boss  heeler,  maybe.  But  you  say 
'hold-up';  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  Jack 
Barto  robbed  you,  son!" 

aOh,  no;  he  held  me  up  with  a  gun  while  his 
helpers  pulled  me  off  the  bronco  and  hog-tied  me, 
and  then  fell  to  discussing  with  the  other  two  the 
advisability  of  knocking  me  on  the  head  and  drop 
ping  me  into  Lost  River  Canyon — that's  all.  Of 
course,  I  knew  they  had  stumbled  upon  the  wrong 
man;  and  after  a  while  I  succeeded  in  making  Barto 
accept  that  hypothesis;  at  least,  he  accepted  it  suf 
ficiently  to  bring  me  here  for  identification.  Since 
he  wouldn't  talk,  and  I  didn't  recognize  the  trail 
or  the  place,  I  hadn't  the  slightest  notion  of  my 
whereabouts — not  the  least  in  the  world;  didn't 
know  where  he  was  taking  me  or  where  I  had  landed 
when  we  stopped  here." 

The  big  man  was  leaning  against  the  foot-rail  of 
the  bed  and  frowning  thoughtfully.  "Talked  about 
dropping  you  into  Lost  River,  did  they?  H'm.  I 
reckon  we'll  have  to  look  into  that  a  little.  Who 
set  them  on,  son?  Got  any  idea  of  that?" 

"I  have  a  very  clear  idea:  it  was  this  man  Hath 
away  you  speak  of — a  big  ranchman  named  Griggs 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  73 

told  me  his  name.  He  came  across  in  the  Pullman 
with  me  from  Omaha;  middle-aged,  tall,  and  slim, 
with  a  hatchet  face  and  owlish  eyes.  Before  I 
learned  his  name  we  had  talked  a  bit — killing  time 
in  the  smoking-room.  He  said  he  was  interested  in 
mines  and  timber.  Along  toward  the  last  he  got  the 
notion  into  his  head  that  I  was  a  special  agent  of 
some  kind,  on  a  mission  for  the  Bureau  of  Forestry, 
and  I  was  foolish  enough  to  let  him  escape  with  the 
impression  uncorrected." 

"That  was  Pete  Hathaway,  all  right,"  was  the 
senator's  comment.  "His  company  has  been  cut 
ting  timber  in  the  Lost  River  watershed  reserves, 
and  he  probably  thought  you  were  aiming  to  get 
him.  You  say  he  sent  Barto  after  you?" 

"I'm  only  guessing  at  that  part  of  it.  When  I 
rode  away  from  Twin  Buttes  he  was  standing  on 
the  porch  of  the  tavern,  talking  to  Barto  and  two 
others;  and  I'm  pretty  sure  he  pointed  me  out  to 
them.  An  hour  or  so  later,  three  horsemen  passed 
me  on  the  mesa,  one  after  another.  I  couldn't  see 
them,  but  I  heard  them.  It  might  have  been  another 
hour  or  more  past  that  when  they  potted  me." 

"You  gave  them  your  name?" 

"Yes;  and  that  seemed  to  tangle  them  a  little. 
Barto  said  he  believed  I  was  lying,  but,  anyway, 
he'd  give  me  a  chance  to  'prove  up.'  Then  they 
brought  me  here,  and  your — er — Mrs.  Blount  kindly 
stepped  into  the  breach  for  me." 

"You  didn't  know  Honoria  when  you  saw  her?" 
queried  the  father. 


74     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"No;  I  wasn't  in  the  least  expecting — that  is,  I 
— you  may  remember  that  I  had  never  met  her/' 
stammered  the  young  man,  who  had  risen  on  his 
elbow  among  the  pillows. 

The  older  man  walked  to  the  window  and  stood 
looking  out  upon  the  distant  mountains  for  a  full 
minute  before  he  faced  about  to  say:  "We  might 
as  well  run  the  boundary  lines  on  this  thing  one 
time  as  another,  son.  You  don't  like  Honoria; 
you've  made  up  your  mind  you're  not  going  to  let 
yourself  like  her.  I  don't  mean  to  make  it  hard 
for  either  of  you  if  I  can  dodge  it.  This  is  her 
home;  but  it  is  also  yours,  my  boy.  Do  you  reckon 
you  could " 

Evan  Blount  made  affectionate  haste  to  stop  the 
half-pathetic  appeal. 

"Don't  let  that  trouble  you  for  a  minute,"  he 
interposed.  "I — Mrs.  Blount  is  a  very  different 
person  from  the  woman  I  have  been  picturing  her 
to  be;  and  if  she  were  not,  I  should  still  try  to  be 
lieve  that  we  are  both  sufficiently  civilized  not  to 
quarrel."  Then:  "Have  you  breakfasted  yet — you 
and  Mrs.  Blount?  But  of  course  you  have,  long 
ago." 

"Breakfasted? — without  you?  Not  much,  son! 
And  that  reminds  me:  I  was  to  come  up  here  and 
see  if  you  were  awake,  and  if  you  were,  I  was  to 
send  Barnabas  up  with  your  coffee." 

"You  may  tell  Uncle  Barnabas  that  I  haven't 
acquired  the  coffee-in-bed  habit  yet,"  laughed  the 
lazy  one,  sitting  up.  "Also,  you  may  make  my 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  75 

apologies  to  Mrs.  Blount  and  tell  her  I'll  be  down 
pronto.  There;  doesn't  that  sound  as  if  I  were  get 
ting  back  to  the  good  old  sage-brush  idiom?  Great 
land!  I  haven't  heard  anybody  say  pronto  since 
I  was  knee-high  to  a  hop- toad!" 

Farther  on,  when  he  was  no  longer  in  the  first 
lilting  flush  of  the  new  impressions,  Evan  Blount 
was  able  to  look  back  upon  that  first  day  at  War- 
trace  Hall  with  keen  regret;  the  regret  that,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  it  could  never  be  lived  over  again. 
In  all  his  f orecastings  he  had  never  pictured  a  home 
coming  remotely  resembling  the  fact.  In  each  suc 
ceeding  hour  of  the  long  summer  day  the  edges  of 
the  chasm  of  the  years  drew  closer  together;  and 
when,  in  the  afternoon,  his  father  put  him  on  a 
horse  and  rode  with  him  to  a  corner  of  the  vast 
home  domain,  a  corner  fenced  off  by  sentinel  cot- 
tonwoods  and  watered  by  the  single  small  irrigation 
ditch  of  his  childish  recollections;  rode  with  him 
through  the  screening  cottonwoods  and  showed  him, 
lying  beyond  them,  the  old  ranch  buildings  of  the 
"Circle-Bar,"  untouched  and  undisturbed;  his  heart 
was  full  and  a  sudden  mist  came  before  his  eyes  to 
dim  the  picture. 

"I've  kept  it  all  just  as  it  used  to  be,  Evan,"  the 
father  said  gently.  "I  thought  maybe  you'd  come 
back  some  day  and  be  sure-enough  disappointed  if 
it  were  gone." 

The  younger  man  slipped  from  his  saddle  and 
went  to  look  in  at  the  open  door  of  the  old  ranch- , 
house.    Everything  was  precisely  as  he  remembered 


76     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

it:  the  simple,  old-fashioned  furniture,  the  crossed 
quirts  over  the  high  wooden  mantel,  his  mother's 
rocking-chair  .  .  .  that  was  the  final  touch;  he  sat 
down  on  the  worn  door-log  and  put  his  face  in  his 
hands.  For.  now  the  gaping  chasm  of  the  years  was 
quite  closed  and  he  was  a  boy  again. 

Still  later  in  this  same  first  day  there  were  ambling 
gallops  along  the  country  roads,  and  the  father  ex 
plained  how  the  transformation  from  cattle-raising 
to  agriculture  and  fruit-growing  had  come  about; 
how  the  great  irrigation  project  in  Quaretaro  Can 
yon  had  put  a  thousand  square  miles  of  the  fertile 
mesa  under  cultivation;  how  with  the  inpouring  of 
the  new  population  had  come  new  blood,  new  meth 
ods,  good  roads,  the  telephone,  the  rural  mail  route, 
and  other  civilizing  agencies. 

The  young  man  groaned.  "  I  know,"  he  mourned. 
"I've  lost  my  birth-land;  it's  as  extinct  as  the 
prehistoric  lizards  whose  bones  we  used  to  find 
sticking  in  the  old  gully  banks  on  Table  Mesa.  By 
the  way,  that  reminds  me:  are  there  any  of  those 
giant  fossils  left?  I  was  telling  Professor  Anners 
about  them  the  other  day,  and  he  was  immensely 
interested." 

"We're  all  fossils — we  older  folks  of  the  cattle- 
raising  times,"  laughed  the  man  whom  Richard 
Gantry  had  called  the  "  biggest  man  in  the  State." 
"But  there  are  some  of  the  petrified  bones  left, 
too,  I  reckon.  If  the  professor  is  a  friend  of  yours, 
we'll  get  him  a  State  permit  to  dig  all  he  wants 
to." 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  77 

"Yes;  Professor  Anners  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  was 
the  younger  Blount's  half-absent  rejoinder.  But 
after  the  admission  was  made  he  qualified  it.  "Per 
haps  I  ought  to  say  that  he  is  as  much  a  friend  as 
his  daughter  will  permit  him  to  be." 

The  qualifying  clause  was  not  thrown  away  upon 
the  senator. 

"What-all  has  the  daughter  got  against  you, 
son?"  he  asked  mildly. 

"Nothing  very  serious,"  said  Patricia's  lover, 
with  a  laugh  which  was  little  better  than  a  gri 
mace.  "It's  merely  that  she  is  jealous  of  any  one 
who  tries  to  share  her  father  with  her.  Next  to  her 
career " 

"That's  Boston,  isn't  it?"  interrupted  the  ex-king 
of  the  cattle  ranges.  Then  he  added:  "I'm  right 
glad  it  hasn't  come  in  your  way  to  tie  yourself  up 
to  one  of  those  '  careers,'  Evan,  boy." 

Now  all  the  influences  of  this  red-letter  day  had 
been  humanizing,  and  when  Evan  Blount  remem 
bered  the  preservation  of  the  old  "Circle-Bar" 
ranch-house,  and  the  motive  which  had  prompted 
it,  he  told  his  brief  love-tale,  hiding  nothing — not 
even  the  hope  that  in  the  years  to  come  Patricia 
might  possibly  find  her  career  sufficiently  unsatis 
fying  to  admit  the  thin  edge  of  some  wedge  of  re 
consideration.  He  felt  better  after  he  had  told  his 
father.  It  was  highly  necessary  that  he  should  tell 
some  one;  and  who  better? 

David  Blount  listened  with  the  far-away  look  in 
his  eyes  which  the  son  had  more  than  once  marked 


78     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

as  the  greatest  of  the  changes  chargeable  to  the 
aging  years. 

"Think  a  heap  of  her,  do  you,  son?"  he  said, 
when  the  ambling  saddle-animals  had  covered  an 
other  half-mile  of  the  homeward  journey. 

"So  much  that  it  went  near  to  spoiling  me  when 
she  finally  made  me  realize  that  I  couldn't  hold  my 
own  against  the  '  career/  "  was  the  young  man's  an 
swer.  Then  he  added:  "I  want  work,  father — that 
is  what  I  am  out  here  for;  the  hardest  kind  of  work, 
and  plenty  of  it;  something  that  I  can  put  my  heart 
into.  Can  you  find  it  for  me?" 

There  was  the  wisdom  of  the  centuries  in  the 
gentle  smile  provoked  by  this  unashamed  disap 
pointed  lover's  appeal. 

"I  wouldn't  take  it  too  hard — the  career  business 
— if  I  were  you,  son,"  said  the  wise  man.  "And  as 
for  the  work,  I  reckon  we  can  satisfy  you,  if  your 
appetite  isn't  too  whaling  big.  How  would  a  State 
office  of  some  kind  suit  you?" 

"Politics?"  queried  Blount,  bringing  his  horse 
down  to  the  walk  for  which  his  father  had  set  the 
example.  "I've  thought  a  good  bit  about  that, 
though  I  haven't  had  any  special  training  that  way. 
The  schools  of  to-day  are  turning  out  business  law 
yers — men  who  know  the  commercial  and  indus 
trial  codes  and  are  trained  particularly  in  their  ap 
plication  to  the  great  business  undertakings.  That 
has  been  my  ambition:  to  be  a  business  adviser, 
and,  perhaps,  after  a  while  to  climb  to  the  top  of 
the  ladder  and  be  somebody's  corporation  counsel." 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  79 

"But  now  you  have  changed  your  notion?" 

"I  don't  know;  sometimes  I  wonder  if  I  haven't. 
There  is  another  field  that  is  exceedingly  attractive 
to  me,  and  you  have  just  named  it.  No  man  can 
study  the  politics  of  America  to-day  without  seeing 
the  crying  need  for  good  men:  men  who  will  not 
let  the  big  income  they  could  command  in  private 
undertakings  weigh  against  pure  patriotism  and  a 
plain  duty  to  their  country  and  their  fellow-men; 
strong  men  who  would  administer  the  affairs  of  the 
State  or  the  nation  absolutely  without  fear  or  favor; 
men  who  will  hew  to  the  line  under  any  and  all 
conditions.  There's  an  awful  dearth  of  that  kind 
of  material  in  our  Government." 

A  quaint  smile  was  playing  under  the  drooping 
mustaches  of  that  veteran  politician  the  Honorable 
Senator  Sage-Brush. 

"I  reckon  we  do  need  a  few  men  like  that,  Evan; 
need  'em  mighty  bad.  Think  you  could  fill  the  bill 
as  one  of  them  if  you  had  a  right  good  chance?" 

The  potential  hewer  of  political  chips  which  should 
lie  as  they  might  fall  smiled  at  what  seemed  to  be 
merely  an  expression  of  parental  favoritism. 

"I'm  not  likely  to  get  the  chance  very  soon,"  he 
returned.  "Just  at  present,  you  know,  I  am  still 
a  legal  resident  of  the  good  old  Commonwealth  of 
Massachusetts,  and  a  member  of  its  bar — eligible  to 
office  there,  and  nowhere  else." 

"You'd  be  a  citizen  of  this  State  by  the  time  you 
could  get  elected  to  an  office  in  it,"  suggested  the 
senator  gravely. 


8o     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I  know;  the  required  term  of  residence  here  is 
ridiculously  short.  But  you  are  forgetting  that  I 
am  as  completely  unknown  in  the  sage-brush  hills 
as  you  are  well  known.  I  couldn't  get  a  nomina 
tion  for  the  office  of  pound-keeper." 

David  Blount  was  chuckling  softly  as  he  threw 
up  the  brim  of  the  big  sombrero  he  was  wearing. 

"Sounds  right  funny  to  hear  you  talking  that 
way,  son,"  he  commented.  "Mighty  near  every 
body  this  side  of  the  Bad  Lands  will  tell  you  that  the 
slate  hangs  up  behind  the  door  at  Wartrace  Hall; 
and  I  don't  know  but  what  some  people  would  say 
that  old  Sage-Brush  Dave  himself  does  most  of  the 
writing  on  it.  Anyhow,  there  is  one  place  on  it  that 
is  still  needing  a  name,  and  I  reckon  your  name 
would  fit  it  as  well  as  anybody's." 

The  young  man  who  was  so  lately  out  of  the  well- 
balanced  East  was  astounded. 

"Heavens!"  he  ejaculated.  "You're  not  consid 
ering  me  as  a  possibility  on  the  State  ticket  before 
I've  been  twenty-four  hours  inside  of  the  State  lines, 
are  you?" 

"No;  not  exactly  as  a  possibility,  son;  that  isn't 
quite  the  word.  We'll  call  it  a  sure  thing,  if  you 
want  it.  It's  this  way:  we're  needing  a  sort  of  po 
litical  house-cleaning  right  bad  this  year.  We  have 
good  enough  laws,  but  they're  winked  at  any  day  in 
the  week  when  somebody  comes  along  with  a  fist 
ful  of  yellow-backs.  The  fight  is  on  between  the 
people  of  this  State  and  the  corporations;  it  was 
begun  two  years  ago,  and  the  people  got  the  laws 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  81 

all  right,  but  they  forgot  to  elect  men  who  would 
carry  them  out.  This  time  it  looks  as  if  the  voters 
had  got  their  knives  sharpened.  We've  been  a  little 
slow  catching  step  maybe,  but  the  marching  orders 
have  gone  out.  We're  aiming  to  clean  house,  and 
do  it  right,  this  fall." 

"Not  if  the  slate  hangs  behind  your  door — or  any 
man's,  father,"  was  the  theorist's  sober  reminder. 
"  Reform  doesn't  come  in  by  that  road." 

"Hold  on,  boy;  steady-go-easy 's  the  word.  Re 
form  comes  in  by  any  old  trail  it  can  find,  mostly, 
and  thanks  its  lucky  stars  if  it  doesn't  run  up  against 
any  bridges  washed  out  or  any  mud-holes  too  deep 
to  ford.  We've  got  a  good  man  for  governor  right 
now;  not  any  too  broad  maybe,  but  good — church 
good.  Nobody  has  ever  said  he'd  take  a  bribe;  but 
he  isn't  heavy  enough  to  sit  on  the  lid  and  hold  it 
down.  Alec  Gordon,  the  man  who  is  going  to  suc 
ceed  him  next  fall,  is  all  the  different  kinds  of  things 
that  the  present  governor  isn't,  so  that  is  fixed." 

"How  ' fixed'?"  queried  the  younger  man,  who, 
though  he  was  not  from  Missouri,  was  beginning  to 
fear  that  he  would  constantly  have  to  be  shown. 

"In  the  same  way  that  everything  has  to  be 
fixed  if  we  are  going  to  get  results,"  was  the  calm 
reply.  "After  the  governor,  the  man  upon  whom 
the  most  depends  is  the  attorney-general.  The  fel 
low  who  is  in  now,  Dortscher,  is  one  of  the  candi 
dates,  but  we've  crossed  his  name  off.  The  next 
man  we  considered  was  Jim  Rankin.  In  some  ways 
he's  fit;  he's  a  hard  fighter,  and  the  man  doesn't 


82     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

live  who  can  bluff  him.  But  Jim's  poor,  and  he 
wants  mighty  bad  to  be  rich,  so  I  reckon  that  lets 
him  out." 

All  of  this  was  directly  subversive  of  Evan  Blount's 
ideas  touching  the  manner  in  which  the  political 
affairs  of  a  free  country  should  be  conducted,  but 
he  was  willing  to  hear  more. 

"Well?  "he  said. 

"What  we  want  this  time  is  one  of  your  hew-to- 
the-line  fellows,  son.  Reckon  you'd  like  to  try  it?" 

The  young  man  who  was  less  than  a  week  away 
from  the  atmosphere  of  the  idealistic  school  and  its 
theories  was  frankly  aghast.  That  his  father  should 
be  coolly  proposing  him  for  a  high  office  in  the  State 
in  which,  notwithstanding  the  birthright,  he  was  as 
new  as  the  newest  immigrant,  seemed  blankly  in 
credible.  But  when  the  incredibility  began  to  sub 
side,  the  despotism  of  the  machine  methods  which 
could  propose  and  carry  out  such  unheard-of  things 
loomed  maleficent. 

"I'm  afraid  we  are  a  good  many  miles  apart  in 
this  matter  of  politics,"  he  said,  when  the  proposal 
had  been  given  time  to  sink  in.  "America  is  sup 
posed  to  be  a  free  country,  with  a  representative 
government  elected  by  the  suffrages  of  the  people; 
do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  and  a  few  of  your 
friends  ignore  the  basic  principles  of  democracy  to 
such  an  extent  that  you  nominate  and  elect  any 
body  you  please  to  any  office  in  the  State?" 

The  far-seeing  eyes  of  the  veteran  were  twinkling 
again. 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  83 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  our  being  so  far  apart," 
was  the  deprecatory  protest.  "You're  just  a  little 
bit  long  on  theory,  that's  all,  son.  When  it  comes 
down  to  the  real  thing — practical  politics,  as  some 
folks  call  it — somebody  has  to  head  the  stampede 
and  turn  it.  And  if  we  don't  do  it  this  coming  fall, 
the  other  bunch  will." 

"What  other  bunch?" 

"In  this  case  it's  the  corporations:  the  timber 
people,  the  irrigation  companies,  and,  most  of  all, 
the  railroad." 

"Gantry  seems  to  think  that  the  railroads — or 
his  railroad,  at  least — are  persecuted." 

The  senator  pulled  his  horse  down  to  a  still  slower 
walk.  "Where  did  you  see  Dick  Gantry?"  he  de 
manded. 

Evan  told  of  the  meeting  on  the  veranda  of  the 
Winnebasset  Club,  adding  the  further  fact  of  the 
college  friendship. 

"Just  happened  so,  did  it?"  queried  the  older 
man,  "that  getting  together  last  Saturday  night?" 

"Why — yes,  I  suppose  so.  Dick  knew  I  was  in 
Boston,  and  he  said  he  had  meant  to  look  me 
up." 

"I  reckon  he  did,"  was  the  quiet  comment;  "yes, 
I  reckon  he  did.  And  he  filled  you  up  plumb  full 
of  Hardwick  McVickar's  notions,  of  course.  I  reckon 
that's  about  what  he  was  told  to  do.  But  we  won't 
fall  apart  on  that,  son.  To-morrow  we'll  run  down 
to  the  city,  and  you  can  look  the  ground  over  for 
yourself.  I  want  you  to  draw  your  own  conclusions, 


84     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  then  come  and  tell  me  what  you'd  like  to  do. 
Shall  we  leave  it  that  way?" 

Evan  Blount  acquiesced,  quite  without  prejudice, 
to  a  firm  conviction  that  his  opinion,  when  formed, 
was  going  to  be  based  on  the  larger  merits  of  the 
case,  upon  a  fair  and  judicial  summing-up  of  the 
pros  and  cons — all  of  them.  He  felt  that  it  would 
be  a  blow  struck  at  the  very  root  of  the  tree  of  good 
government  if  he  should  consent  to  be  the  candidate 
of  the  machine.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  saw 
instantly  what  a  power  a  fearless  public  prosecutor 
could  be  in  a  misguided  commonwealth  where  the 
lack  was  not  of  good  laws,  but  of  men  strong  enough 
and  courageous  enough  to  administer  them.  He 
would  see:  if  the  good  to  be  accomplished  were 
great  enough  to  over-balance  the  evil  ...  it  was 
a  temptation  to  compromise — a  sharp  temptation; 
and  he  found  himself  longing  for  Patricia,  for  her 
clear-sighted  comment  which,  he  felt  sure,  would 
go  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  tangle. 

It  was  that  thought  of  Patricia,  and  his  need  for 
her,  that  made  him  absent-minded  at  the  Wartrace 
Hall  dinner- table  that  evening;  and  the  father,  look 
ing  on,  suspected  that  Evan's  taciturnity  was  an  ex 
pression  of  his  prejudice  against  the  woman  who  had 
taken  his  mother's  place.  After  dinner,  when  the 
son,  pleading  weariness,  retreated  early  to  his  room, 
the  senator's  suspicion  became  a  belief. 

"  You'll  have  to  be  right  patient  with  the  boy, 
little  woman,"  he  said  to  the  small  person  whom 
Gantry  had  described  as  the  court  of  last  resort; 


AT  WARTRACE  HALL  85 

this  when  Evan  had  disappeared  and  the  long- 
stemmed  pipe  was  alight.  "I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
Boston  had  put  some  mighty  queer  notions  into  his 
head." 

The  little  lady  looked  up  from  her  embroidery 
frame  and  a  quaint  smile  was  twitching  at  the  cor 
ners  of  the  pretty  mouth.  "He  is  a  dear  boy,  and 
he  is  trying  awfully  hard  to  hate  me,"  she  said. 
"But  I  sha'n't  let  him,  David." 


VI 

ON  THE  WING  OF  OCCASIONS 

FROM  the  time  when  it  was  heralded  in  the  mam 
moth  New  Year's  edition  of  The  Plainsman  as  "the 
newest,  the  finest,  and  the  most  luxurious  hostelry 
west  of  the  Missouri  River,"  the  Inter-Mountain 
Hotel,  in  the  Sage-brush  capital,  had  been  the 
acceptable  gathering-place  of  the  clans,  industrial, 
promoting,  or  political. 

Anticipating  this  patronage,  Clarkson,  its  bonanza- 
king  builder  and  owner,  had  amended  the  architect's 
plans  to  make  them  include  a  convention-hall, 
committee-rooms,  and  a  complete  floor  of  suites 
with  private  dining-rooms.  Past  this,  the  amended 
plans  doubled  the  floor  space  of  the  lobby — debating- 
ground  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  country  delegate 
— and  particular  pains  had  been  taken  to  make 
this  semi-public  forum,  where  the  burning  question 
of  the  moment  could  be  caucussed  and  the  shaky 
partisan  resworn  to  fealty,  attractive  and  home 
like;  the  plainly  tiled  floor,  leather-covered  loung- 
ing-chairs,  and  numerous  and  convenient  cuspidors 
lending  an  air  of  democratic  comfort  which  was 
somehow  missing  in  the  resplendent,  bemirrored, 

86 


ON  THE  WING  OF  OCCASIONS  87 

onyx-plated  bar,  blazing  with  its  cut.  glass  and 
polished  mahogany. 

After  the  solid  costliness  of  Wartrace  Hall  and 
the  thirty-mile  spin  in  a  high-powered  gentleman's 
roadster,  which  was  only  one  of  the  three  high- 
priced  motor-carriages  in  the  Wartrace  garage,  Evan 
Blount  was  not  surprised  to  learn  that  his  father 
was  registered  in  permanence  for  one  of  the  private 
dining-room  suites  at  the  Inter-Mountain.  It  was 
amply  evident  that  the  simple  life  which  had  been 
the  rule  of  the  "Circle-Bar77  ranch  household  had 
become  a  thing  of  the  past;  and  though  he  charged 
the  new  order  of  things  to  the  ambition  of  his  fa 
ther's  wife,  he  could  hardly  cavil  at  it,  since  he  was 
himself  a  sharer  in  the  comforts  and  luxuries. 

For  the  first  few  days  after  the  father  and  son  had 
gone  into  bachelor  quarters  at  the  Inter-Mountain, 
the  returned  exile  was  left  almost  wholly  to  his  own 
devices.  Beyond  giving  him  a  good  many  introduc 
tions,  as  the  opportunities  for  them  offered  in  the 
stirring  life  of  the  hotel,  his  father  made  few  de 
mands  upon  him,  and  they  were  together  only  at 
luncheon  and  dinner,  the  midday  meal  being  usually 
served  in  their  suite,  while  for  the  dinner  they  met 
by  appointment  in  the  hotel  cafe. 

Notwithstanding  this  hospitable  neglect  on  the 
part  of  his  father,  Evan  Blount  suffered  no  lack  of 
the  social  opportunities.  Gantry  was  back,  and,  in 
addition  to  a  most  ready  availability  as  a  social 
sponsor,  the  traffic  manager  was  both  able  and  will 
ing.  Almost  before  he  had  time  to  realize  it,  Blount 


88    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

had  been  put  in  touch  with  the  busy,  breezy  life  of 
the  Western  city,  was  exchanging  nods  or  hand 
shakings  with  more  people  than  he  had  ever  known 
in  Cambridge  or  Boston,  and  was  receiving  more 
invitations  than  he  could  possibly  accept. 

"Pretty  good  old  town,  isn't  it?"  laughed  Gan 
try  one  day,  when  he  had  tolled  Blount  away  from 
the  Inter-Mountain  luncheon  to  share  a  table  with 
him  in  the  Railway  Club.  "Getting  so  you  feel  a 
little  more  at  home  with  us?" 

"If  I'm  not,  it  isn't  your  fault,  Dick,  or  the  fault 
of  your  friends.  Naturally,  I  expected  some  sort  of 
a  welcome  as  ex-Senator  David  Blount's  son;  but 
that  doesn't  seem  to  cut  any  figure  at  all." 

Gantry's  smile  was  inscrutable. 

"The  people  with  whom  it  cuts  the  largest  figure 
will  never  let  you  know  anything  about  it.  Just 
the  same,  your  sonship  is  cutting  a  good  bit  of  ice, 
if  you  care  to  know  it.  I've  met  a  number  of  men 
in  the  past  few  days  who  have  discovered  that  you 
are  just  about  the  brainiest  thing  that  ever  escaped 
from  the  effete  East  and  the  law  schools." 

"Tommy-rot!"  derided  the  brainy  one. 

"It's  a  fact.  And  they  are  prophesying  all  sorts 
of  a  roseate  and  iridescent  future  for  you.  One 
might  almost  imagine  that  the  prophets  are  inspired 
by  that  kind  of  gratitude  which  is  a  lively  sense  of 
favors  to  come." 

"Oh,  piffle!    You  know  that  is  all  nonsense!" 

"Is  it?"  queried  the  railroad  man,  stressing  the 
first  word  meaningly.  Then,  shifting  the  point  of 


ON  THE  WING  OF  OCCASIONS  89 

attack:  "You're  mighty  innocent,  aren't  you,  old 
man?  But  I  think  you  might  have  told  me.  Good 
ness  knows,  I'm  as  safe  as  a  brick  wall." 

"Might  have  told  you  what?" 

"That  you  are  going  to  run  for  attorney-general 
against  Dortscher." 

"I  couldn't  very  well  tell  you  what  I  didn't  know 
myself,  Dick,"  was  the  sober  reply.  "Who  has  been 
romancing  to  you?" 

"It's  all  over  town.  Everybody's  talking  about 
it — talking  a  lot  and  guessing  a  good  deal  more. 
You've  got  'em  running  around  in  circles  and  utter 
ing  loud  and  plaintive  cries,  especially  Jim  Rankin, 
who  had — or  thought  he  had — a  lead-pipe  cinch  on 
the  job.  Dortscher  is  tickled  half  to  death.  He 
knew  he  wasn't  going  to  be  allowed  to  succeed  him 
self,  and  he  hates  Rankin  worse  than  poison." 

Blount  was  balancing  the  spoon  on  the  edge  of 
his  coffee-cup  and  scowling  abstractedly.  It  was 
the  first  little  discord  in  the  filial  harmony — this 
evidence  that  the  powers  were  at  work;  almost  a 
breach  of  confidence.  There  was  no  avoiding  the 
distasteful  conclusion.  Without  consulting  his  wishes, 
without  waiting  for  his  decision,  his  father  had  pub 
licly  committed  him — taken  "snap  judgment"  upon 
him  was  the  way  he  phrased  it. 

"Dick,  will  you  believe  me  if  I  say  that  I  haven't 
authorized  any  such  talk  as  this  you've  been  hear 
ing?"  he  asked,  looking  up  quickly. 

This  time  Gantry's  smile  was  a  grin  of  complete 
intelligence. 


90     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Oh,  that's  the  way  of  it,  eh?  The  Honorable 
Senator  took  it  out  of  your  hands,  did  he?  You'll 
understand  that  I'm  not  casting  any  aspersions  when 
I  say  that  it's  exactly  like  him.  If  he  has  slated 
you,  you  are  booked  to  run;  and  if  he  runs  you, 
you'll  be  elected.  Those  are  two  of  the  things  that 
practically  speak  right  out  and  say  themselves  here 
in  the  old  Sage-brush  State." 

Blount  was  indignant — justly  indignant,  he  per 
suaded  himself. 

"If  that  is  the  case,  Gantry,  it  is  high  time  that 
some  one  should  have  nerve  enough  to  break  the 
charm.  I  haven't  said  that  I  would  accept  the 
nomination  if  it  were  tendered  me,  and  I  am  not  at 
all  sure  that  I  am  going  to  say  it.  And  if  I  don't 
say  it,  by  all  that's  good  and  great,  that  settles  it!" 

Gantry  was  plainly  shocked.  "You're  not  try 
ing  to  make  me  believe  that  you've  got  nerve 
enough  to  buck  the  old  m —  your  father,  I  mean? 
Why,  great  cats,  Evan!  you  don't  know  what  that 
stands  for  in  the  grease  wood  hills!" 

"And  I  don't  care,  Dick.  Up  to  this  present  mo 
ment  I  am  a  free  moral  agent;  I  haven't  surrendered 
any  right  of  decision  to  my  father,  or  to  any  one 
else,  so  far  as  I  am  aware." 

Gantry's  eyes  dropped  to  his  plate,  and  his  re 
joinder  was  not  wholly  free  from  guile. 

"Will  you  authorize  me  to  contradict  the  talk  as 
I  can?"  he  asked,  without  looking  up. 

Blount  was  still  warm  enough  to  be  peremptory. 

"Yes,  you  may  contradict  it.     You  may  say  that 


ON  THE  WING  OF  OCCASIONS  91 

it  is  entirely  unauthorized — that  I  have  told  you  so 
myself."  Then  he  remembered  the  claims  of  friend 
ship.  "I'll  be  frank  with  you,  Dick;  this  thing  has 
been  mentioned  to  me  once,  but  nothing  was  de 
cided — absolutely  nothing.  I  didn't  even  promise 
to  take  it  under  advisement." 

Among  those  who  knew  him  only  externally,  Mr. 
Richard  Gantry  had  the  reputation  of  owning  a 
loose  tongue.  But  none  recognized  more  justly  than 
the  real  Richard  Gantry  the  precise  instant  at  which 
to  bridle  the  loose  tongue  or  when  to  make  it  wag 
away  from  the  subject  which  has  reached  its  nicely 
calculated  climax.  While  the  flush  of  irritation  was 
still  making  him  ashamed  that  he  had  shown  so 
much  warmth,  Blount  found  himself  gossiping  with 
his  table  companion  over  a  social  function  two 
days  old;  and  subsequently,  when  the  waiter  brought 
the  cigars,  Gantry  was  congratulating  himself  that 
the  danger-point,  if  any  there  were,  was  safely  past. 

It  was  after  the  club  luncheon,  and  while  the  two 
young  men  were  on  their  way  to  the  smoking-room, 
that  some  one  on  business  bent  stopped  Gantry  in 
the  corridor.  Blount  strolled  on  by  himself,  and, 
finding  the  smoking-room  unoccupied,  went  to 
lounge  in  a  lazy-chair  standing  in  a  little  alcove 
lined  with  bookcases  and  half  screened  by  the 
racks  of  the  newspaper  files.  Notwithstanding  the 
successful  topic  changing  at  table,  he  was  still  brood 
ing  over  the  false  position  in  which  his  father's  plans 
had  placed  him;  wherefore  he  craved  solitude  and  a 
chance  to  think  things  over  fairly  and  without  heat. 


92     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Shortly  afterward  Gantry  looked  in,  and,  appar 
ently  missing  the  half-concealed  easy-chair  and  its 
occupant  in  the  bookcase  alcove,  went  his  way.  He 
had  scarcely  had  time  to  get  out  of  the  building,  one 
would  say,  before  two  men  entered  the  smoking- 
room,  coming  down  the  corridor  from  the  grill. 
Blount  saw  them,  and  he  made  sure  that  they  saw 
him.  But  when  they  had  taken  chairs  on  the  other 
side  of  the  sheltering  newspaper  files  he  was  sud 
denly  assured  that  they  had  not  seen  him.  They 
were  talking  quite  freely  of  him  and  of  his  father. 

"Well,  the  Honorable  Dave  has  got  McVickar 
dead  to  rights  this  time/*  remarked  the  older  of 
the  two,  a  hard-featured,  round-bodied  real-estate 
promoter  to  whom  Blount  had  been  introduced  on 
his  first  day  in  the  capital,  but  whose  name  he  could 
not  now  recall.  "This  scheme  of  the  senator's  for 
shoving  his  son  into  the  race  for  the  attorney- 
generalship  is  just  about  the  foxiest  thing  he  has 
ever  put  across.  You  can  bet  the  air  was  blue 
in  the  Transcontinental  Chicago  offices  when  the 
news  got  there. " 

"What  do  you  suppose  McVickar  will  do?"  asked 
the  other. 

"He  will  do  anything  the  senator  wants  him  to— 
he's  got  to.  Blount  is  land  hungry,  and  I  guess 
he'll  take  a  few  more  sections  of  the  railroad  mesa- 
land  under  the  Clearwater  ditch.  That  was  wli.H 
he  did  two  years  ago  when  McVickar  wanted  the 
right  of  way  for  the  branch  through  Camadin*: 
County." 


ON  TIIK   VVINC   OF  OCCASIONS  93 

"Don't  you  believe  he's  going  to  take  any  little 
Christmas  gift  this  time!"  was  I  lit-  rasping  reply. 
"He'll  sell  (he  railroad  something,  and  lake  good 
hard  money  for  it.  It's  a  cinch.  The  niilroad  can't 
a  flOn  I  to  have  the  courts  against  it,  and  McVickar 
will  be  made  to  sweat  blood  this  heat.  You  watt  h 
the  wheels  <M>  round  when  McVickar  comes  out 

here." 

Kvan  Blount  found  himself  growing  strangely  sick 
and  faint.  Could  it  be  his  father  whom  they  were 
thus  calmly  accusing  of  graft  and  trickery  and  black 
mailing  methods  too  despicable  to  be  Imagined? 
His  first  impulse  was  to  confront  the  two;  to  de 
mand  proofs;  to  do  and  say  what  a  loyal  son  should. 
Hut  the  crushing  conviction  that  they  were  di  . 
cussing  only  well-known  and  well-assured  facts  un 
nerved  him;  and  after  that  he  was  anxious  for  only 
one  thing  that  they  might  finish  their  cigars  and 
go  away  without  discovering  him. 

I1  ate  was  kind  to  him  thus  far.  After  a  little 
further  talk,  in  which  the  accepted  point  of  view  of 
the  on  looker  at  the  great  game  was  made  still  more 
painfully  evident  for  the  unwilling  listener,  the  men 
went  away.  For  a  long  time  after  they  had  gone, 
Illounl  sat  <  rumpled  in  the  depths  of  the  big  chair, 
chewing  his  extinct  cigar  and  staring  absently  at  the 
row  of  books  on  a  level  with  his  eyes  in  the  opposite 
case. 

One  clear  thought,  and  one  only,  came  out  of  the 
sorrowful  confusion:  no/,  for  any  inducement  that 
<  ould  now  be  ofTered  would  he  lend  himself  to  the 
furt  herance  of  his  father's  plans.  Heyond  this  he  did 


94     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

not  reason  in  the  miserable  hour  wrought  out  in  the 
quiet  of  the  club  smoking-room.  But  when  he  got 
up  to  go,  another  prompting  was  forcing  its  way 
to  the  surface — a  prompting  to  throw  himself  boldly 
into  the  scale  against  graft  and  chicanery;  to  re 
deem  at  any  cost,  and  by  whatsoever  means  might 
offer,  the  good  old  name  which  had  been  so  shame 
fully  dragged  in  the  mire. 

He  did  not  know  just  how  it  was  to  be  done,  but 
he  told  himself  that  he  would  find  a  way.  That 
the  path  would  be  full  of  thorns  he  could  not  doubt, 
since  every  step  in  it  would  widen  the  breach  which 
must  be  opened  between  his  father  and  himself. 
Possibly  it  might  lead  him  to  the  bar  of  justice  as 
that  father's  accuser,  but  even  in  that  hard  case  he 
must  not  falter.  He  said  to  himself,  in  a  fresh  ac 
cess  of  passionate  determination,  that  though  he 
might  have  to  blush  for  his  father,  Patricia  should 
not  be  made  ashamed  for  her  lover. 

Upon  leaving  the  club,  he  paused  long  enough  to 
remember  that  he  was  in  no  fit  frame  of  mind  to 
risk  an  immediate  meeting  with  his  father.  To 
make  even  a  chance  meeting  impossible,  he  crossed 
the  street,  and,  passing  through  the  Capitol  grounds, 
strolled  aimlessly  out  one  of  the  residence  avenues 
until  he  came  to  the  open  country  beyond  the  sub 
urbs. 

It  was  quite  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  re- 
entered  the  city  by  another  street  and  boarded  a 
trolley  car  for  the  down-town  centre.  The  long  after 
noon  tramp,  and  the  conclusions  it  had  bred,  made 
it  imperative  for  him  to  see  Gantry  before  the  traffic 


ON  THE  WING  OF  OCCASIONS  95 

manager  should  leave  his  office  for  the.  day.  His 
business  with  the  railroad  man  was  purely  personal. 
He  meant  to  ask  Gantry  a  few  pointed  questions 
requiring  such  answers  as  friendship  may  demand. 
If  Gantry's  replies  were  such  as  he  feared  they 
would  be,  he  would  seek  his  father  and  come  at  once 
to  a  plain  understanding  with  him. 

The  trolley  car  dropped  him  within  a  square  of 
the  railway  station,  on  the  second  floor  of  which 
Gantry  had  his  business  office.  The  shortest  way 
to  the  Sierra  Avenue  end  of  the  station  building 
was  through  the  great  train-shed.  Half-way  up  the 
platform  Blount  met  the  west-bound  Overland  steam 
ing  in  from  the  eastern  yards.  At  the  Sierra  Avenue 
crossing  the  yard  crew  was  cutting  off  a  private  car. 
Blount  saw  the  number  on  the  medallion,  "008," 
and  noted  half  absently  the  rich  window-hangings 
and  the  polished  brass  platform  railings.  A  car  in 
spector  in  greasy  overalls  and  jumper  was  tapping 
the  wheels  with  his  long-handled  hammer. 

"Whose  car  is  this?"  asked  Blount. 

"  'Tis  Misther  McVickar's,  sorr — the  vice-prisidint 
av  the  coompany,"  said  the  man. 

Blount  turned  away,  saying  something  which  the 
hammer-man  mistook  for  a  word  of  thanks.  So  the 
vice-president  had  come,  hastening  upon  the  wing 
of  occasions,  it  seemed.  And  in  the  light  of  the 
overheard  conversation  in  the  club  smoking-room, 
it  was  only  too  easy  to  guess  his  errand  in  the  Sage 
brush  capital.  He  had  come  to  make  such  terms  as 
he  could  with  the  man  who  was  going  to  hold  him  up. 


VII 

A  BATTLE  ROYAL 

HAVING  already  convinced  himself  that  the  time 
was  ripe  for  a  straightforward  declaration  of  prin 
ciples,  Evan  Blount  saw  in  the  arrival  of  the  Over 
land,  with  the  vice-president's  private  car  attached, 
only  an  added  argument  for  haste. 

During  the  better  part  of  the  long  tramp  in  the 
outskirts  of  the  city  he  had  been  halting  between 
two  opinions.  The  fighting  blood  of  the  Tennessee 
pioneer  strain  had  clamored  for  its  hearing,  prompt 
ing  him  to  enter  the  lists,  to  set  up  the  standard 
of  honesty  and  fair-dealing  in  the  Blount  name,  to 
plunge  into  the  approaching  political  campaign  with 
a  single  purpose — the  purpose  of  overthrowing  the 
power  of  the  machine  in  his  native  State.  On  the 
other  hand,  filial  affection  had  pleaded  eloquently. 
The  battle  for  political  honesty  would  inevitably  in 
volve  his  father;  would,  if  successful,  defeat  and  dis 
grace  him.  As  often  as  he  thought  he  had  closed 
decisively  with  the  idealistic  determination,  the  other 
side  of  the  argument  sprang  up  again,  keen-edged 
and  biting.  Up  to  the  present  moment  he  had  owed 
his  father  everything — was  still  owing  him  day  by 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  97 

day.  Would  it  not  be  the  part  of  a  son  to  drop  out 
quietly,  leaving  the  political  house-cleaning  for  some 
one  who  would  not  be  obliged  to  pay  such  a  costly 
price? 

It  was  the  idealistic  decision  which  had  been  in  the 
saddle  when  he  dropped  from  the  trolley  car  at  the 
western  portal  of  the  railway  station,  and  which  was 
sending  him  to  seek  the  scale-turning  interview  with 
Gantry.  But,  after  all,  it  was  chance  and  the  swift 
current  of  events  which  seized  upon  him  and  swept 
him  along,  smashing  all  the  arguments  and  fine 
spun  theories.  Before  he  had  gone  ten  steps  in  the 
direction  of  Gantry's  office,  some  one  in  the  throng 
of  debarking  Overland  travellers  called  his  name. 
Turning  quickly,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
a  white-haired  little  gentleman  who  had  plucked  im 
patiently  at  his  sleeve 

"Why,  bless  my  soul!  Of  all  the  lucky  miracles!" 
gasped  the  young  man  who,  but  an  instant  earlier, 
had  been  deaf  and  blind  to  all  external  things.  And 
then:  "Where  is  Patricia?" 

"She's  here,  somewhere,"  snapped  the  little  gen 
tleman  irascibly.  "I've  lost  her  in  this  confounded 
mob.  Find  her  for  me.  I Ve  got  my  reading-glasses 
on,  and  I  can't  see  anything.  Why  don't  they  have 
this  barn  of  a  place  lighted  up?" 

"  Stand  still  right  where  you  are,"  Blount  directed, 
and  a  moment  later  he  had  found  Patricia  guarding 
a  pair  of  suit-cases  which  were  too  heavy  for  her  to 
carry. 

"You  poor  lost  child!"  was  his  burbled  greeting. 


98     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  this  is  the  West 
to  which  you  said  you  were  coming?" 

"I'm  not  lost;  I'm  here.  It's  father  who  is  lost," 
she  laughed.  Then  she  answered  his  question: 
"Yes,  this  is  the  West  I  meant,  and  if  you  haven't 
been  telling  the  truth  about  it— 

Blount  had  snatched  up  the  two  hand-bags  and 
had  effected  a  reunion  of  the  scattered  pair.  The 
little  gentleman,  standing  immovable,  as  he  had 
been  told  to  do,  was  blinking  impatiently  through 
his  reading-glasses  at  the  surging  throng.  When 
Blount  came  up,  the  professor  stabbed  him  with 
a  sharp  forefinger. 

"Well,  we're  here,  young  man,"  he  barked.  "If 
you've  been  telling  me  fibs  about  those  Megalosau- 
ridae  which  you  said  could  be  dug  out  of  your  sage 
brush  hills,  you'll  pay  our  fare  back  home  again — 
just  make  up  your  mind  to  that.  Now  show  us 
the  best  hotel  in  this  mushroom  city  of  yours,  and 
do  it  quickly." 

Having  a  hospitable  thing  to  do,  Blount  shoved 
his  problem  into  a  still  more  remote  background 
and  bestirred  himself  generously.  Though  the  Inter- 
Mountain  was  only  three  squares  distant,  he  char 
tered  the  best-looking  auto  he  could  find  in  the 
rank  of  waiting  vehicles,  put  his  charges  into  it,  and 
went  with  them  to  do  the  honors  at  the  hotel.  By 
this  postponement  of  the  visit  to  Gantry  he  missed 
a  meeting  which  would  have  done  something  toward 
solving  a  part  of  his  problem.  But  for  the  hospita 
ble  turning  aside  he  might  have  reached  the  railroad 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  99 

office  in  time  to  see  a  round-bodied  man  halting  at 
the  open  door  of  Gantry's  private  room  for  a  part 
ing  word  with  the  traffic  manager. 

"Oh,  yes;  he  fell  for  it,  all  right,"  was  the  form 
the  parting  word  took.  "If  you  had  seen  his  face 
when  Lackner  and  I  came  away,  you'd  have  said 
there  was  battle,  murder,  and  sudden  death  in  it  for 
somebody." 

"But,  see  here,  Bradbury,"  Gantry  held  his  visitor 
to  say,  "it  wasn't  in  the  game  that  you  were  to  fill 
him  up  with  a  lot  of  lies.  I  won't  stand  for  that, 
you  know.  He  is  too  good  a  fellow,  and  too  good 
a  friend  of  mine." 

It  was  at  this  conjuncture  that  Blount,  if  he  had 
been  present  and  invisible,  would  have  seen  a  sour 
smile  wrinkling  upon  the  face  of  the  club  gossip. 

"I  owe  the  senator  one  or  two  on  my  own  ac 
count,  Gantry.  But  it  wasn't  necessary  to  go  out 
of  the  beaten  path.  If  young  Blount  or  his  daddy 
would  like  to  sue  us  for  libel,  we  could  prove  every 
word  that  was  said — or  prove  that  it  was  common 
report;  too  common  to  be  doubted.  And  it  got  the 
young  fellow;  got  him  right  in  the  solar  plexus.  If 
you  don't  see  some  fireworks  within  the  next  few 
days,  I  miss  my  guess  and  lose  my  ante." 

This  is  what  Evan  Blount,  carrying  out  his  inten 
tion  of  going  to  Gantry,  might  have  seen  and  heard. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  he  had  lingered  a  few  minutes 
longer  on  the  station  platform  he  could  scarcely  have 
failed  to  mark  the  side-tracking  of  private  car  "008," 
and  he  might  have  seen  the  herculean  figure  of  the 


loo    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

vice-president  crossing  to  the  carriage-stand  to  climb 
heavily  into  a  waiting  automobile. 

Mr.  McVickar's  order  to  the  chauffeur  was  curtly 
brief,  and  a  little  later  the  vice-president  entered 
the  lobby  of  the  Inter-Mountain  and  shot  a  brisk 
question  at  the  room-clerk. 

"Is  Senator  Blount  in  his  rooms?" 

"I  think  not.  He  was  here  a  few  minutes  ago. 
Fll  send  a  boy  to  hunt  him  up  for  you.  You  want 
your  usual  suite,  I  suppose,  Mr.  McVickar?" 

"No;  I'm  not  stopping  overnight.  Is  young 
Blount  here  in  the  hotel?" 

"He  has  just  gone  up  to  the  fifth  floor  with  some 
friends  of  his — Mr.  Anners  and  his  daughter,  from 
Boston.  Shall  I  hold  him  for  you  when  he  comes 
down?" 

"No;  I  want  to  see  the  senator.  Hustle  out  an 
other  boy  or  two.  I  can't  wait  all  night." 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Evan  Blount,  bear 
ing  luggage-checks  and  going  in  search  of  the  house 
baggageman,  missed  another  incident  which  might 
have  drawn  him  back  suddenly  to  his  problem  and 
its  unsettled  condition.  The  incident  was  the  meet 
ing  between  his  father  and  the  railroad  vice-presi 
dent  at  the  room-clerk's  counter.  It  was  neither 
hostile  nor  friendly;  on  McVickar's  part  it  was 
gruffly  business-like. 

"Well,  Senator,  I'm  here,"  was  the  follow-up  of 
the  perfunctory  hand-shake.  "Let's  find  a  place 
where  we  can  flail  it  out,"  and  together  the  two 
entered  an  elevator. 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  101 

Reaching  the  floor  of  the  private  dining-room 
suites,  the  ex-cattle-king  Jed  the  way  in  siJence  to 
his  own  apartments;  rather -kt  us  say  He£  pointed 
the  way,  since  in  the  march  down*  the  long  corridor 
the  two  field  commanders  tramped' 'evenly  abreast 
as  if  neither  would  give  the  other  the  advantage 
of  an  inch  of  precedence.  In  the  sitting-room  of 
the  private  suite  the  senator  snapped  the  latch  on 
the  door,  and  pressed  the  wall-button  for  the  elec 
tric  lights.  McVickar  dragged  a  chair  over  to  one 
of  the  windows  commanding  a  view  of  the  busy 
street,  and  dropping  solidly  into  it,  like  a  man  brac 
ing  himself  for  a  fight,  began  abruptly: 

"I  suppose  we  may  as  well  cut  out  the  prelim 
inaries  and  come  to  the  point  at  once,  Blount. 
Ackerton  wired  me  that  you  had  definitely  an 
nounced  your  son  as  a  candidate  for  the  attorney- 
generalship.  Have  you?" 

The  senator  had  found  an  unopened  box  of  cigars 
in  a  cabinet  and  he  was  inserting  the  blade  of  his 
pocket-knife  under  the  lid  when  he  said,  with  good- 
natured  irony:  "The  primaries  do  the  nominating 
in  this  State,  Hardwick.  Didn't  you  know  that?" 

"See  here,  Blount;  I've  come  half-way  across  the 
continent  to  thresh  this  thing  out  with  you,  face  to 
face,  and  I'm  not  in  the  humor  to  spar  for  an  open 
ing.  Do  you  mean  to  run  your  son  or  not?  That 
is  a  plain  question,  and  I'd  like  to  have  an  equally 
plain  answer." 

"I  told  you  two  weeks  ago  what  you  might  ex 
pect  if  you  insisted  on  sticking  your  crow-bar  in 


102    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

among  the  wheels  this  fall,  McVickar,  but  you 
wouldn't  believe  me.  I'll  say  it  again  if  you  want 
to  hear  itJ: 

"And  I  told*  you  two  weeks  ago  that  we  couldn't 
stand  for  any  'such  -programme  as  the  one  you  had 
mapped  out.  And  I  added  that  you  might  name 
your  own  price  for  an  alternative  which  wouldn't 
confiscate  us  and  drive  us  off  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"Yes;  and  I  named  the  price,  if  you  happen  to 
remember." 

"I  know;  you  said  you  wanted  us  to  turn  every 
thing  over  to  the  Paramounters  and  take  our  chances 
on  a  clean  administration.  Naturally,  we're  not 
going  to  do  any  such  Utopian  thing  as  that.  What 
I  want  to  know  now  is  what  it  is  going  to  cost  us  to 
do  the  practical  and  possible  thing." 

"Want  to  buy  me  outright  this  time,  do  you, 
Hardwick?"  said  the  boss,  still  smiling. 

"We" — McVickar  was  going  to  say — "We  have 
bought  you  before,"  but  he  changed  the  retort  to 
a  less  offensive  phrasing — "We  have  had  no  diffi 
culty  heretofore  in  arriving  at  some  practical  and 
sensible  modus  vivendi,  and  we  shouldn't  have  now. 
But  as  a  condition  binding  upon  any  sort  of  an 
arrangement,  I  am  here  to  say  that  we  can't  let  you 
nominate  and  elect  your  son  as  attorney-general; 
that's  out  of  the  question.  If  it's  going  to  prove 
a  personal  disappointment  to  you,  we'll  be  reasona 
ble  and  try  to  make  it  up  to  you  in  some  other  way." 

Again  the  grimly  humorous  smile  was  twinkling, 
in  the  gray  eyes  of  the  old  cattleman.  "What  is 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  103 

the  market  quotation  on  disappointments,  right 
now,  Hardwick?"  he  inquired. 

With  another  man  McVickar  might  have  been 
too  diplomatic  to  show  signs  of  a  shortening  temper. 
But  David  Blount  was  an  open-eyed  enemy  of  long 
standing. 

"I  don't  know  anybody  west  of  the  Missouri  River 
who  has  a  better  idea  of  market  values  than  you 
have,"  the  vice-president  countered  smartly.  Then, 
dropping  a  heavy  hand  upon  the  arm  of  his  chair: 
"This  thing  has  got  to  be  settled  here  and  now, 
Blount.  If  you  put  your  son  in  as  public  prose 
cutor,  you  can  have  but  one  object  in  view — you 
mean  to  squeeze  us  till  the  blood  runs.  We  are 
willing  to  discount  that  object  before  the  fact!" 

"  So  you  have  said  before,  a  number  of  times  and 
in  a  whole  heap  of  different  ways.  It's  getting  sort 
of  monotonous,  don't  you  think?" 

"I  sha'n't  say  it  many  more  times,  David;  you 
are  pushing  me  too  far  and  too  hard." 

"All  right;   what  will  you  say,  then?" 

"Just  this:  if  you  won't  meet  me  half-way — if 
you  insist  upon  a  fight — I'll  fight  you  with  any 
weapons  I  can  get  hold  of!" 

Once  more  the  quiet  smile  played  about  the  outer 
angles  of  the  hereditary  Blount  eyes. 

"You've  said  that  in  other  campaigns,  Hardwick; 
in  the  end  you've  always  been  like  the  'possum  that 
offered  to  come  down  out  of  the  tree  if  the  man 
wouldn't  shoot." 

t 

"I'll  hand  you  another  proverb  to  go  with  that 


104    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

one,"  snapped  the  man  in  the  arm-chair:  "The 
pitcher  that  goes  once  too  often  to  the  well  is  sure 
to  be  broken.  You've  got  a  joint  in  your  armor 
now,  Blount.  You've  always  been  able  to  snap 
your  fingers  at  public  opinion  before  this;  can  you 
afford  to  do  it  now?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know;  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  grin 
and  bear  it  if  you  want  to  buy  up  a  few  newspapers 
and  set  them  to  blacklisting  me,  as  you  usually  do," 
was  the  half-quizzical  reply.  Then:  "I'm  pretty 
well  used  to  it  by  this  time.  You  and  your  folks 
can't  paint  me  much  blacker  than  you  have  always 
painted  me,  Hardwick." 

"Maybe  not.  But  this  time  we're  going  to  give 
you  a  chance  to  start  a  few  libel  suits — if  you  think 
you  can  afford  to  appear  in  the  courts.  We've  got 
plenty  of  evidence,  and  by  heavens  we'll  produce 
it!  You  put  your  son  in  as  public  prosecutor  and 
we  might  be  tempted  to  make  your  own  State  too 
hot  to  hold  you.  Had  you  thought  of  that?" 

"Go  ahead  and  try  it,"  was  the  laconic  response. 

"But  that  isn't  all,"  the  railroad  dictator  went 
on  remorselessly.  "Your  fellow  citizens  here  know 
you  for  exactly  what  you  are,  Blount.  You  rule  them 
with  a  rod  of  iron,  but  that  rule  can  be  broken. 
When  it  is  broken,  you'll  be  hounded  as  a  criminal. 
In  our  last  talk  together  you  had  something  to  say 
to  me  about  our  not  keeping  up  with  the  change  in 
public  sentiment;  public  sentiment  has  changed; 
changed  so  far  that  it  is  coming  to  demand  the 
punishment  of  the  great  offenders  as  well  as  the  jail- 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  105 

ing  of  the  little  ones.  If  we  want  to  push  this  fight 
hard  enough,  it  is  not  impossible  that  you  might  find 
yourself  in  a  hard  row  of  stumps  at  the  end  of  it, 
David." 

"I'm  taking  all  those  chances,"  was  the  even- 
toned  rejoinder  of  the  man  who  was  to  be  shown  up. 

"But  there  is  one  chance  I'm  sure  you  haven't 
considered,"  McVickar  went  on  aggressively.  "This 
son  of  yours;  I  know  as  much  about  him  as  you  do 
— more,  perhaps,  for  I  have  taken  more  pains  to 
keep  tab  on  him  for  the  past  few  years  than  you 
have.  He  is  clean  and  straight,  Blount;  a  son  for 
any  father  to  be  proud  of.  If  that  is  the  real  reason 
why  we  don't  want  to  have  him  instructing  the 
grand  juries  of  this  State,  it  is  also  your  best  reason 
for  wanting  to  keep  the  past  decently  under  cover. 
What  will  you  say  to  him  when  the  newspapers  open 
up  on  you?  And  what  will  he  say  to  you?  And 
suppose  you  get  him  in,  and  we  should  show  you  up 
so  that  you'd  be  dragged  into  court  with  your  own 
son  for  the  prosecutor?  How  does  that  strike  you?  " 

For  the  first  time  since  the  opening  of  the  one 
sided  conference  the  senator  laid  his  cigar  aside 
and  sat  thoughtfully  tugging  at  the  drooping  mus 
taches. 

"  You'd  set  the  house  afire  over  my  head,  would 
you,  Hardwick?"  he  queried,  with  the  gray  eyes 
lighting  up  as  with  a  glow  of  smouldering  embers. 
"The  last  time  we  talked  you'll  remember  that  you 
posted  your  'de-fi';  now  I'll  post  mine.  You  go 
ahead  and  do  your  damnedest!  The  boy  and  I  will 


io6    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

try  to  see  to  it  that  you  don't  have  all  the  fun.  I 
won't  say  that  you  mightn't  turn  him  if  you  went 
at  it  right;  but  you  won't  go  at  it  right,  and  as 
matters  stand  now — well,  blood  is  thicker  than 
water,  Hardwick,  and  if  you  hit  me  you  hit  him. 
I  reckon,  between  us,  we'll  make  out  to  give  you 
as  good  as  you  send.  That's  all" — he  rose  to  lean 
heavily  upon  the  table — "all  but  one  thing:  you 
fight  fair,  Hardwick;  say  anything  you  like  about 
me  and  I'll  stand  for  it;  but  if  that  boy  has  any 
thing  in  his  past  that  I  don't  know  about — any  little 
fool  trick  that  he  wouldn't  want  to  see  published — 
you  let  it  alone  and  keep  your  damned  newspaper 
hounds  off  of  it!" 

The  vice-president,  being  of  those  who  regain 
equanimity  in  exact  proportion  as  an  opponent  loses 
it,  chuckled  grimly;  was  still  chuckling  when  an  in 
terrupting  tap  came  at  the  locked  door.  Blount 
got  up  and  turned  the  latch  to  admit  an  office-boy 
wearing  the  uniform  of  the  railroad  headquarters. 
"Note  for  Mr.  McVickar,"  said  the  messenger;  and 
at  a  gesture  from  the  senator  he  crossed  the  room 
to  deliver  it. 

For  a  full  half -minute  after  the  boy  had  gone,  the 
vice-president  sat  poring  over  the  pencilled  scrawl, 
which  was  all  that  the  sealed  envelope  yielded.  The 
note  was  lacking  both  date-line  and  signature,  though 
the  clerks  in  Richard  Gantry's  office  were  familiar 
enough  with  the  hieroglyph  that  appeared  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sheet.  In  his  own  good  time  the 
vice-president  folded  the  bit  of  paper  and  thrust  it 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  107 

into  his  pocket.  Then  he  resumed  the. talk  at  the 
precise  point  at  which  it  had  been  broken  off. 

"You  needn't  let  the  boy's  record  trouble  you," 
he  averred.  "As  I  said  a  few  minutes  ago,  it's  as 
clean  as  a  hound's  tooth.  That  is  one  of  the  things 
I'm  banking  on,  David.  If  you  don't  look  out, 
I'm  going  to  have  that  young  fellow  fighting  on  our 
side  before  we're  through." 

At  this  the  light  in  the  gray  eyes  flamed  fiercely, 
and  the  ex-cattle-king  took  the  two  strides  needful 
to  place  him  before  McVickar. 

"Don't  you  try  that,  McVickar;  I  give  you  fair 
warning!"  he  grated,  his  deep- toned  voice  rumbling 
like  the  burr  of  grinding  wheels.  "There's  only  one 
way  you  could  do  it,  and " 

The  vice-president  stood  up  and  reached  for  his 
hat. 

"And  you'll  take  precious  good  care  that  I 
don't  get  a  chance  to  try  that  way,  you  were  go 
ing  to  say.  All  right,  David;  you  tell  me  to  do  my 
damnedest,  and  I'll  hand  that  back  to  you,  too. 
You  do  the  same,  and  we'll  see  who  comes  out 
ahead." 

The  vice-president  caught  an  elevator  at  the  end 
of  his  leisurely  progress  down  the  corridor,  and  had 
himself  lowered  to  the  lobby.  The  electric  lights 
were  glowing,  and  the  great  gathering-place  was 
beginning  to  take  on  its  evening  stir.  Mr.  Hard- 
wick  McVickar  pushed  his  way  to  the  desk,  and  a 
row  of  lately  arrived  guests  waited  while  he  asked 
his  question. 


io8    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Where  shall  I  be  most  likely  to  find  Mr.  Evan 
Blount  at  this  time  of  day?"  he  demanded;  and  the 
obliging  clerk  made  the  guest-line  wait  still  longer 
while  he  summoned  a  bell-boy  and  sent  him  scurry 
ing  over  to  one  of  the  writing-tables. 

"This  is  Mr.  Evan  Blount/'  said  the  clerk,  indi 
cating  the  young  man  who  came  up  with  the  return 
ing  bell-boy.  "Mr.  Blount,  this  is  Mr.  Hardwick 
McVickar,  first  vice-president  of  the  Transconti 
nental  Railway  Company." 

There  was  no  trace  of  the  recent  battle  in  Mr. 
McVickar's  voice  or  manner  when  he  shook  hands 
cordially  with  the  son  of  the  man  who  had  so  lately 
defied  him. 

"Your  father  and  I  were  just  now  holding  a  little 
conference  over  your  future  prospects,  Mr.  Blount," 
he  said,  going  straight  to  his  point.  "Suppose  you 
come  down  to  the  car  with  me  for  a  private  talk  on 
legal  matters.  I'm  inclined  to  think  that  we  shall 
wish  to  retain  you  in  a  cause  which  is  coming  up  in 
September.  Gantry  tells  me  that  you  are  pretty 
well  up  in  corporation  law.  Can  you  spare  me  a 
half -hour  or  so?" 

Evan  Blount  glanced  at  the  big  clock  over  the 
clerk's  head.  Patricia  had  told  him  that  she  and 
her  father  would  dine  in  the  cafe  at  seven,  and  that 
there  would  be  a  place  at  their  table  for  him — and 
another  for  his  father,  if  the  ex-senator  would  so  far 
honor  a  poor  college  professor.  There  was  an  hour 
to  spare;  and  if  the  vice-president  of  the  Transcon 
tinental  was  not  the  king,  he  was  at  least  a  great 


A  BATTLE  ROYAL  109 

man,  and  one  whose  invitation  was  in  some  sense 
a  royal  command. 

"Certainly,  I'll  be  glad  to  go  with  you,"  was 
Blount's  acquiescent  rejoinder.  So  much  the  regis 
try-clerk  heard;  and  he  saw,  between  jabs  with  his 
pen,  the  straight  path  to  the  revolving  doors  of  the 
portal  ploughed  by  the  big  man  with  young  Blount 
at  his  elbow. 

One  minute  after  the  spinning  doors  had  engulfed 
the  pair  the  registry-clerk  was  called  on  the  house 
telephone.  A  sad-faced  tourist  who  was  waiting 
patiently  for  his  room  assignment  heard  only  the 
answer  to  the  question  which  came  over  the  wire 
from  one  of  the  upper  floors:  "No,  Senator,  Mr. 
Evan  is  not  here;  he  has  just  this  moment  gone 
out — with  Mr.  McVickar.  Could  I  overtake  him? 
I'll  try;  but  I  don't  know  where  they  were  going. 
Yes;  all  right.  I'll  send  a  boy  right  away." 


VIII 
THE  QUEEN'S   GAMBIT 

WHEN  the  news  went  forth  to  the  dwellers  in  the 
sage-brush  hills  that  Boss  David's  son  had  been 
appointed  to  fill  an  important  office  as  a  mem 
ber  of  the  railroad  company's  legal  staff,  the  first 
wave  of  astoundment  was  swiftly  followed  by  many 
speculations  as  to  what  young  Blount's  debut  as  a 
railroad  placeman  really  meant. 

The  Plainsman,  the  capital  city's  principal  daily, 
and  the  outspoken  organ  of  the  people's  party,  was 
quick  to  discover  an  ulterior  motive  in  Evan  Blount's 
appointment  and  its  acceptance.  Blenkinsop,  the 
leader-writer  on  The  Plainsman,  took  a  half-column 
in  which  to  point  out  in  emphatic  and  vigorous 
Western  phrase  the  dangers  that  threatened  the 
commonwealth  in  this  very  evident  coalition  of  the 
railroad  octopus  and  the  machine. 

The  Lost  River  Miner,  on  the  contrary,  was  unwill 
ing  to  believe  that  the  younger  Blount  was  acting 
in  the  interest  of  machine  politics  in  taking  an  em 
ployee's  place  on  the  railroad  pay-roll.  In  this 
editor's  comment  there  were  veiled  hints  of  a  dis 
agreement  between  father  and  son;  of  differences 

no 


THE  QUEEN'S   GAMBIT  in 

of  opinion  which  might,  later  on,  lead  to  a  pitched 
battle.  The  Capital  Daily,  however — the  stock  in 
which  was  said  to  be  owned  or  controlled  by  local 
railroad  officials — took  a  different  ground,  covertly 
insinuating  that  nothing  for  nothing  was  the  accepted 
rule  in  politics;  that  if  the  railroad  company  had 
made  a  place  for  the  son,  it  was  only  a  justifiable 
deduction  that  the  father  was  not  as  fiercely  inim 
ical  to  the  railroad  interests  as  the  opposition  press 
was  willing  to  have  a  too  credulous  public  believe. 

Elsewhere  in  the  State  press  comment  was  di 
vided,  as  the  moulders  of  public  opinion  happened 
to  read  party  loss  or  gain  in  the  appointment  of  the 
new  legal  department  head.  Some  were  fair  enough 
to  say  that  young  Blount  had  merely  shown  good 
sense  in  taking  the  first  job  that  was  offered  him, 
following  the  commendation  with  the  very  obvious 
conclusion  that  the  railroad  company's  pay  check 
would  buy  just  as  much  bread  in  the  open  market 
as  anybody's  else.  On  the  whole,  the  senator's  son 
was  given  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  and  a  chance  to 
prove  up. 

Of  the  interview  between  the  frther  and  the  son, 
in  which  Evan  announced  his  intention  of  accept 
ing  a  place  under  McVickar,  nothing  was  said  in 
the  newspapers,  for  the  very  good  reason  that  no 
reporter  was  present.  If  the  young  man  who  had 
so  summarily  taken  his  future  into  his  own  hands 
was  anticipating  a  storm  of  disapproval  and  oppo 
sition,  he  was  disappointed.  He  had  seen  Mr.  Mc 
Vickar 's  private  car  coupled  to  the  east-bound  Fast 


H2    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Mail,  and  had  dined  with  Patricia  and  her  father, 
the  fourth  seat  at  the  table  of  reunion  being  vacant 
because  the  senator  was  dining  elsewhere.  Later  in 
the  evening  he  faced  the  music  in  the  sitting-room 
of  the  private  suite,  waylaying  his  father  on  the 
Honorable  David's  return  to  the  hotel. 

Planning  it  out  beforehand,  Blount  had  meant  to 
give  the  ethical  reasons  which  had  constrained  him 
to  put  a  conclusive  end  to  the  attorney-generalship 
scheme.  But  when  the  crux  came,  the  carefully 
planned  argument  side-stepped  and  he  was  reduced 
to  the  necessity  of  declaring  his  purpose  baldly.  The 
railroad  people  had  offered  him  a  place,  and  he  had 
accepted  it. 

"So  McVickar  talked  you  over  to  his  side,  did 
he?"  was  the  boss's  gentle  comment.  "It's  all 
right,  son;  you're  a  man  grown,  and  I  reckon  you 
know  best  what  you  want  to  do.  If  it  puts  us  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  political  creek,  we  won't  let 
that  roil  the  water  any  more  than  it  has  to,  will  we?  " 

To  such  a  mild-mannered  surrender,  or  apparent 
surrender,  the  stirring  filial  emotions  could  do  no 
less  than  to  respond  heartily. 

"We  mustn't  let  it,"  was  the  quick  reply;  but  after 
this  the  younger  man  added:  "I  feel  that  I  ought  to 
make  some  explanations — they're  due  to  you.  I've 
been  knocking  about  here  in  the  city  with  my  eyes 
and  ears  open,  and  I  must  confess  that  the  political 
field  has  been  made  to  appear  decidedly  unattrac 
tive  to  me.  From  all  I  can  learn,  the  political  situ 
ation  in  the  State  is  handled  as  a  purely  business 


THE  QUEEN'S   GAMBIT  113 

proposition;  it  is  a  matter  of  bargain  and  sale.  I 
couldn't  go  into  anything  like  that  and  keep  my 
self-respect." 

"No,  of  course  you  couldn't,  son.  So  you  just 
took  a  job  where  you  could  earn  good,  clean  money 
in  your  profession.  I  don't  blame  you  a  particle." 

Blount  was  vaguely  perturbed,  and  he  showed  it 
by  absently  laying  aside  the  cigar  which  he  had 
lately  lighted  and  taking  a  fresh  one  from  the  open 
box  on  the  table.  He  could  not  help  the  feeling 
that  he  ought  to  be  reading  between  the  lines  in  the 
paternal  surrender. 

"You  think  there  will  be  more  or  less  political 
work  in  my  job  with  the  "railroad? "  he  suggested, 
determined  to  get  at  the  submerged  facts,  if  there 
were  any. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know;  you  say  McVickar  has  hired 
you  to  do  a  lawyer's  work,  and  I  reckon  that  is  what 
he  will  expect  you  to  do,  isn't  it?" 

Blount  laid  the  second  cigar  aside  and  crossed  the 
room  to  readjust  a  half-opened  ventilating  transom. 
Mr.  McVickar  had  not  defined  the  duties  of  the  new 
counselship  very  clearly,  but  there  had  been  a  strong 
inference  running  through  the  private-car  confer 
ence  to  the  effect  that  the  headship  of  the  local 
legal  department  would  carry  with  it  some  politi 
cal  responsibilities.  At  the  moment  the  newly  ap 
pointed  placeman  had  been  rather  glad  that  such 
was  the  case.  The  vice-president  had  convinced 
him  of  the  justice  of  the  railroad  company's  con 
tention — namely,  that  the  present  laws  of  the 


H4    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

State,  if  rigidly  administered,  amounted  to  a  prac 
tical  confiscation  of  the  company's  property.  While 
Mr.  McVickar  was  talking,  Blount  had  hoped  that 
the  new  office  which  the  vice-president  was  appar 
ently  creating  for  him  would  give  him  a  free  hand 
to  place  the  company's  point  of  view  fairly  before 
the  people  of  the  State,  and  to  do  this  he  knew  he 
would  have  to  enter  the  campaign  in  some  sort  as  a 
political  worker.  Surely,  his  father  must  know  this; 
and  he  went  boldly  upon  the  assumption  that  his 
father  did  know  it. 

"As  I  have  said,  I  am  to  be  chief  of  the  legal  de 
partment  on  this  division,  and  as  such  it  will  be 
necessary  for  me  to  defend  my  client  both  in  court 
and  out  of  court,"  he  said  finally.  "Since  I  am 
fairly  committed,  I  shall  try  to  stay  on  the  job." 

"Of  course  you  will.  You've  got  to  be  honest 
with  yourself — and  with  McVickar.  I  don't  mind 
telling  you,  son,  that  I'm  flat-footed  on  the  other 
side  this  time,  and  I  had  hoped  you  were  going  to 
be.  But  if  you're  not,  why,  that's  the  end  of  it. 
We  won't  quarrel  about  it." 

Now  this  was  not  at  all  the  paternal  attitude  as 
the  young  man  had  been  prefiguring  it.  He  had 
looked  for  opposition;  finding  it,  he  would  have 
found  it  possible  to  say  some  of  the  things  which 
were  crying  to  be  said  and  which  still  remained 
unsaid.  But  there  was  absolutely  no  loophole 
through  which  he  could  force  the  attack.  If  his 
late  decision  had  been  of  no  more  importance  than 
the  breaking  of  a  dinner  engagement,  his  father 


THE  QUEEN'S   GAMBIT  115 

could  scarcely  have  dismissed  it  with  less,  apparent 
concern.  Balked  and  practically  talked  to  a  stand 
still  in  the  business  matter,  Blount  switched  to 
other  things. 

"I  missed  you  to-night  at  dinner/'  he  said,  be 
ginning  on  the  new  tack.  "Two  of  my  Cambridge 
friends  are  here,  and  I  wanted  you  to  meet  them." 

The  Honorable  David  looked  up  quickly. 

"The  fossil-digging  professor  and  his  daughter?" 
he  queried  shrewdly. 

"Yes;  how  did  you  know?  They  came  in  on  the 
Overland,  and  I  find  that  the  professor  has  made  the 
long  journey  on  the  strength  of  what  I  once  told 
him  about  the  megatheriums  and  things.  I  guess 
it's  up  to  me  to  make  good  in  some  way." 

"Don't  you  worry  a  minute  about  that,  Evan, 
boy,"  was  the  instant  rejoinder.  "Honoria's  com 
ing  in  from  Wartrace  to-morrow,  and  if  you'll  put 
us  next,  we'll  take  care  of  your  friends — mighty 
good  care  of  'em."  Then,  almost  wistfully  Blount 
thought:  "You  won't  mind  letting  Honoria  do  that 
much  for  you,  will  you,  son?" 

"I'd  be  a  cad  if  I  did.  And  you've  taken  a  load 
off  of  my  shoulders,  I  can  assure  you.  If  you  can 
persuade  Mrs.  Blount  into  it,  I'll  arrange  for  a  little 
dinner  of  five  to-morrow  evening  in  the  cafe  where 
we  can  all  get  together.  You'll  like  the  professor, 
I  know;  and  I  hope  you're  going  to  like  Patricia. 
She's  New  England,  and  at  first  you  may  think  she's 
a  bit  chilly.  But  really  she  isn't  anything  of  the 
kind." 


n6    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

The  Honorable  Senator  got  up  and  strolled  to  the 
window. 

" You'd  better  go  to  bed,  son,"  he  advised.  "It's 
getting  to  be  mighty  late,  and  you'll  want  to  be 
surging  around  some  with  these  friends  of  yours  to 
morrow.  And,  before  I  forget  it,  the  big  car  is  in 
Heffelfinger's  garage.  Order  it  out  after  break 
fast  and  show  the  Cambridge  folks  a  good  time." 

It  was  late  the  following  evening,  several  hours 
after  the  informal  little  dinner  for  five  in  the  Inter- 
Mountain  cafe,  when  the  senator  had  himself  lifted 
from  the  lobby  to  the  private-suite  floor  and  made 
his  way  to  the  door  of  his  own  apartments.  As  was 
her  custom  when  they  were  together,  his  wife  was 
waiting  up  for  him. 

"Did  you  find  out  anything  more?"  she  asked, 
without  looking  up  from  the  tiny  embroidery  frame 
which  was  her  leisure-filling  companion  at  home  or 
elsewhere. 

"Not  enough  to  hurt  anything.  McVickar  has 
fixed  things  to  suit  himself.  The  boy's  law-office 
job  is  to  be  pretty  largely  nominal;  a  sort  of  go-as- 
you-please  and  do-as-you-like  proposition  on  the 
side,  with  Ackerton  to  do  all  the  sure-enough  court 
work  and  legal  drudgery.  Since  Ackerton  is  a  pretty 
clean  fellow,  and  Evan  stands  up  so  straight  that 
he  leans  over  backward,  this  lay-out  means  that 
the  bribing  isn't  going  to  be  done  by  the  legal  de 
partment  in  the  coming  campaign." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"All  but  one  little  thing.    Evan's  job  is  to  be 


THE  QUEEN'S   GAMBIT  117 

more  or  less  associated  with  the  traffic  department, 
and  the  word  has  been  passed  to  Gantry  and  his 
crowd  to  see  to  it  that  the  boy  doesn't  get  to  know 
too  much." 

"But  they  can't  keep  him  from  finding  out  about 
the  underground  work!"  protested  the  small  one. 

"If  it's  an  order  from  headquarters,  they're  going 
to  try  mighty  hard.  Evan  wants  to  believe  that 
everything  is  on  the  high  moral  plane,  and  when  a 
man  wants  to  believe  a  thing  it  isn't  so  awfully 
hard  to  fool  him.  It'll  be  a  winning  card  for  them 
if  they  can  send  the  boy  out  to  talk  convincingly 
about  the  cleanness  of  the  company's  campaign. 
That  sort  of  talk,  handed  out  as  Evan  can  hand  it, 
if  he  is  convinced  of  the  truth  of  what  he  is  saying, 
will  capture  the  honest  voter  every  time.  I  tell 
you,  little  woman,  there's  a  thing  we  politicians  are 
constantly  losing  sight  of:  that  down  at  the  bed 
rock  bottom  the  American  voter — 'the  man  in  the 
street,'  as  the  newspapers  call  him — is  a  fair  man 
and  an  honest  man.  Speaking  broadly,  you  couldn't 
buy  him  with  a  clear  title  to  a  quarter-section  in 
Paradise." 

This  little  eulogy  upon  the  American  voter  ap 
peared  to  be  wasted  upon  the  small  person  in  the 
wicker  rocking-chair.  "We  must  get  him  back," 
she  remarked,  referring,  not  to  the  American  voter, 
but  to  the  senator's  son.  "Have  you  thought  of 
any  plan?" 

"No." 

She  smiled  up  at  him  sweetly.     "You  are  like  the 


n8    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

good  doctor  who  cannot  prescribe  for  the  members 
of  his  own  family.  If  he  were  anybody  else's  son, 
you  would  know  exactly  what  to  do." 

"Perhaps  I  should." 

"I  have  a  plan,"  she  went  on  quietly,  bending 
again  over  her  embroidery.  "He  may  have  to  take 
a  regular  course  of  treatment,  and  it  may  make  him 
very  ill;  would  you  mind  that?" 

David  Blount  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  re 
garded  her  through  half-closed  eyelids.  "You're 
a  wonder,  little  woman,"  he  said;  and  then:  "I 
don't  want  to  see  the  boy  suffer  any  more  than  he 
has  to." 

"Neither  do  I,"  was  the  swift  agreement.  Then, 
with  no  apparent  relevance:  "What  do  you  think 
of  Miss  Anners?" 

The  senator  sat  up  at  the  question,  with  the  slow 
smile  wrinkling  humorously  at  the  corners  of  his 
eyes. 

"I  haven't  thought  much  about  her  yet.  She's 
the  kind  that  won't  let  you  get  near  enough  in 
a  single  sitting  to  think  much  about  her,  isn't 
she?" 

"She  is  a  young  woman  with  an  exceedingly 
bright  mind  and  a  very  high  purpose,"  was  the 
little  lady's  summing-up  of  Patricia.  "But  she  isn't 
altogether  a  Boston  iceberg.  She  thinks  she  is  ir 
revocably  in  love  with  her  chosen  career;  but,  really, 
I  believe  she  is  very  much  in  love  with  Evan.  If 
we  could  manage  to  win  her  over  to  our  side  as  an 
active  ally " 


THE  QUEEN'S   GAMBIT  119 

This  time  the  senator's  smile  broadened  into  a 
laugh. 

"You  are  away  yonder  out  of  my  depth  now," 
he  chuckled.  "Does  your  course  of  treatment  for 
the  boy  include  large  doses  of  the  young  woman, 
administered  frequently?" 

"Oh,  no,"  was  the  instant  reply.  "I  was  only 
wondering  if  it  wouldn't  be  well  to  enroll  her — en 
list  her  sympathies,  you  know." 

"Why  not? — if  you  think  best?  You're  the  fine- 
haired  little  wire-puller,  and  it's  all  in  your  hands." 

"Will  you  give  me  carte-blanche  to  do  as  I  please? " 
asked  the  small  plotter. 

"Sure!"  said  the  Honorable  David  heartily,  add 
ing:  "You  can  always  outfigure  me,  two  to  one, 
when  it  comes  to  the  real  thing.  You've  made  a 
fine  art  of  it,  Honoria,  and  I'll  turn  the  steering- 
wheel  over  to  you  any  day  in  the  week." 

When  she  looked  up  she  was  smiling  in  the  way 
which  had  made  Evan  Blount  wonder,  in  that  mid 
night  meeting  at  Wartrace  Hall,  how  she  could  look 
so  young  and  yet  be  so  wise. 

"You  deal  with  people  in  the  mass,  David,  and 
no  one  living  can  do  it  better.  I  am  like  most 
women,  I  think:  I  deal  with  the  individual.  That 
is  all  the  difference.  When  do  the  Annerses  go  out 
to  the  fossil-beds?" 

"I  don't  know;  any  time  when  you  will  invite 
them  to  make  Wartrace  their  headquarters,  I 
reckon." 

"Then  I  think  it  will  be  to-morrow,"  decided  the 


120    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

confident  mistress  of  policies.  "It  won't  do  to  let 
Evan  see  too  much  of  Patricia  until  after  his  course 
of  treatment  is  well  under  way.  Shall  we  make  it 
to-morrow?  And  will  you  telephone  Dawkins  to 
bring  down  the  biggest  car?  I  have  a  notion  wan 
dering  around  in  my  head  somewhere  that  Miss 
Patricia  Anners  will  stand  a  little  judicious  impress 
ing.  She  is  exceedingly  democratic,  you  know — in 
theory." 


IX 

THE  RANK  AND   FILE 

CONSIDERABLY  to  his  surprise,  and  no  less  to  his 
satisfaction,  the  newly  appointed  "division  coun 
sel,"  as  his  title  ran,  was  not  required  to  take  over 
the  old  legal  department  offices  in  the  second  story 
of  the  station  building,  where  all  the  other  offices  of 
the  company  were  located.  Instead,  he  was  directed 
to  fit  up  a  suite  of  rooms  in  Temple  Court,  the  capi 
tal's  most  pretentious  up-town  sky-scraper,  and  there 
was  something  more  than  a  hint  that  the  item  of 
first  cost  would  not  be  too  closely  scrutinized. 

It  was  the  vice-president  himself,  writing  from 
Chicago,  who  authorized  the  new  departure  and 
loosened  the  purse  strings.  "Don't  be  afraid  of 
spending  a  little  money,"  wrote  the  great  man. 
"Make  your  up-town  headquarters  as  attractive  as 
may  be,  and  arrange  matters  with  Ackerton  so  that 
your  office  will  not  be  burdened  with  too  much  of 
the  routine  legal  work.  A  successful  legal  represent 
ative  will  be  a  good  mixer — as  I  am  sure  you  are 
— and  will  extend  the  circle  of  his  acquaintance  as 
rapidly  and  as  far  as  possible.  Your  appointment 
will  be  fully  justified  when  you  have  made  your 
up-town  office  a  place  where  the  good  citizens  of 

121 


122    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

the  capital  and  the  State  can  drop  in  for  a  cordial 
word  with  the  company's  spokesman." 

Acting  upon  this  suggestion,  Blount  opened  the 
Temple  Court  headquarters  at  once  and  threw  him 
self  energetically  into  the  indicated  field.  Acker- 
ton,  a  technical  expert  with  a  needle-like  mind  and 
the  State  code  at  his  fingers'-ends,  was  left  in  charge 
of  the  working  offices  in  the  railroad  building,  with 
instructions  to  apply  to  his  chief  only  when  he  needed 
specific  advice. 

At  the  up-town  headquarters,  Blount  gave  him 
self  wholly  to  the  pleasant  task  of  making  friends. 
With  a  good  store  of  introductions  upon  which  to 
make  a  beginning,  and  with  the  open-handed,  whole- 
souled  camaraderie  of  the  West  to  help,  the  list  of 
acquaintances  grew  with  amazing  rapidity.  For 
the  three  or  four  weeks  after  Mrs.  Blount  had 
whisked  the  Annerses  away  to  Wartrace  Hall  and 
the  habitat  of  the  Megalosauridae,  the  newly  ap 
pointed  "social  secretary"  for  the  railroad,  as  Hono- 
ria  had  dubbed  him,  met  all  comers  joyously  and 
accepted  all  invitations,  never  inquiring  whether 
they  were  extended  to  his  father's  son,  to  the  rail 
road  company's  legal  chief,  or  to  Evan  Blount  in 
his  proper  person. 

During  this  social  interval  he  saw  little  of  his 
father,  though  he  was  still  occupying  his  share  of 
the  private  dining-room  suite  at  the  Inter-Mountain. 
Part  of  the  time,  as  he  knew,  the  Honorable  Senator 
was  at  Wartrace  Hall,  looking  after  his  mammoth 
ranch,  and  helping  to  entertain  the  visitors  from 


THE  RANK  AND   FILE  123 

Massachusetts.  But  now  and  again  the  father  came 
and  went;  and  occasionally  there  was  a  dinner  a 
deux  in  the  hotel  cafe,  with  a  little  good-natured 
raillery  from  the  senator's  side  of  the  table. 

"Got  you  chasing  your  feet  right  lively  in  the 
social  merry-go-round  these  days,  haven't  they, 
son?  Like  it,  as  far  as  you've  gone?"  said  the  ex- 
cattle-king  one  evening  when  Evan  had  come  down 
in  evening  clothes,  ready  to  go  to  madam  the 
governor's  wife's  strictly  formal  "informal"  a  little 
later  on. 

"It's  all  in  the  day's  work,"  laughed  the  younger 
man.  "I  shall  need  all  the  'pull'  I  can  get  a  little 
later  on,  sha'n't  I?" 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  did,  son;  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  you  did.  And  I  reckon  you're  doing 
pretty  good  work,  too,  mixing  and  mingling  the 
way  you  do.  Was  it  McVickar's  idea,  or  your  own 
— this  sudden  splash  into  the  social  water-hole?" 

"I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  it  is  a  part  of  the 
new  policy,"  returned  the  social  splasher,  still  smil 
ing.  "We  are  out  to  make  friends  this  time;  good, 
solid,  open-eyed  friends  who  will  know  just  what 
we  are  doing  and  why  we  are  doing  it." 

"H'm,"  mused  the  senator,  "so  publicity's  the 
new  word,  is  it?" 

"Yes;  publicity  is  the  word.  The  Gordon  people 
say  they  are  going  to  show  us  up;  there  won't  be 
anything  to  show  up  when  the  time  comes.  We 
are  going  to  beat  them  to  the  billboards." 

The  grizzled  veteran  of  a  goodly  number  of  po- 


124    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

litical  battles  put  down  his  coffee-cup;  he  was 
still  old-fashioned  enough  to  drink  his  coffee  in  gen 
erous  measure  with  the  meat  courses. 

"You  can't  do  the  circus  act — ride  two  horses  at 
once  and  do  the  same  stunt  on  both,  son,"  he  re 
marked  gravely.  "If  you're  really  going  to  put 
the  saddle  and  bridle  on  the  publicity  nag,  you've 
got  to  turn  the  other  one  out  of  the  corral  and  let 
it  go  back  to  the  short-grass." 

"It  is  already  turned  out,"  asserted  the  young 
man,  not  affecting  to  misunderstand.  "We  neither 
buy  votes  nor  spend  illegitimate  money  in  this 
campaign." 

The  stout  assertion  was  good  as  far  as  it  went; 
the  new  division  counsel  made  it  and  believed  it.  But 
on  his  way  to  the  governor's  mansion,  a  little  later, 
he  could  not  help  wondering  if  he  had  been  altogether 
candid  in  making  it.  The  offices  in  the  up-town 
sky-scraper  were  not  exclusively  a  railroad  social 
centre  where  the  disinterested  voter  could  come  and 
have  the  facts  ladled  out  to  him  without  fear  or 
favor  on  the  part  of  the  ladler.  They  had  come  to 
be  also  a  rallying-point  for  a  heterogeneous  crowd 
of  ward-workers,  wire-pullers,  and  small  politicians, 
most  of  whom  were  anxious  to  be  employed  or  re 
tained  as  henchmen.  Some  of  these  "  stretcher  men," 
as  Blount  contemptuously  called  them,  had  been 
employed  in  past  campaigns;  others  were  still  the 
beneficiaries  of  the  railroad,  holding  pay-roll  places 
which  Blount  acutely  suspected  were  chiefly  sine 
cures. 


THE  RANK  AND   FILE  125 

Latterly,  this  contingent  of  strikers  and  heelers 
had  been  greatly  augmented,  and  it  was  beginning 
to  make  its  demands  more  emphatic.  A  dozen 
times  a  day  Blount  had  the  worn  phrase,  "nothing 
for  nothing,"  dinned  into  his  ears,  and  he  was  be 
ginning  to  harbor  a  suspicion  that  his  office  had 
been  made  a  dumping-ground  for  all  the  other 
departments. 

Seeing  Gantry  at  madam  the  governor's  lady's 
reception,  Blount  took  an  early  opportunity  of  cor 
nering  the  traffic  manager  in  one  of  the  otherwise 
deserted  smoking-dens,  and  when  he  had  made  sure 
there  were  no  eavesdroppers  plunged  at  once  into 
the  middle  of  things. 

"See  here,  Dick,"  he  began,  "you  fellows  down 
town  are  making  my  office  a  cesspool,  and  I  won't 
stand  for  it.  Garrigan,  that  saloon-keeper  in  the 
second  ward,  came  up  to-day  to  ask  for  a  free  ticket 
to  Worthington  and  return;  and  when  I  pinned  him 
down  he  admitted  that  you'd  sent  him  to  me." 

"I  did,"  said  Gantry,  grinning.  "Why  otherwise 
have  we  got  a  post-graduate,  double-certificated  po 
litical  manager,  I'd  like  to  know?" 

Blount  dropped  into  a  chair  and  felt  in  his  pockets 
for  his  cigar-case. 

"I  guess  we  may  as  well  fight  this  thing  to  a 
finish  right  here  and  now,  Dick,"  he  said  coolly. 
"I'm  not  chief  vote  buyer  for  the  Transcontinental 
Company — I'm  not  any  kind  of  a  vote  buyer." 

"Who  said  you  were?"  retorted  the  traffic  man 
ager. 


126    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"It  says  itself,  if  I  am  supposed  to  cut  the  pie 
and  hand  out  pieces  of  it  to  these  grub-stakers  that 
you  and  Carson  and  Bentley  and  Kittredge  are  con 
tinually  sending  to  me." 

This  time  Gantry's  grin  was  playful,  but  behind 
it  there  was  a  shrewd  flash  of  the  Irish-blue  eyes 
that  Blount  did  not  see. 

"I  guess  the  company  would  be  plenty  willing  to 
furnish  a  few  small  pies  for  really  hungry  people, 
if  you  think  you  need  them  to  go  along  with  your 
Temple  Court  office  fittings,"  he  returned. 

"Ah?"  said  Blount  calmly,  giving  the  exclama 
tion  the  true  Boston  inflection.  "You  are  either 
too  shrewd  or  not  quite  shrewd  enough,  Dick.  You 
covered  that  up  with  a  laugh,  so  that  I  might  take 
it  as  a  joke  if  I  happened  to  be  too  thin-skinned  to 
take  it  in  disreputable  earnest.  Let  us  understand 
each  other;  we  are  fighting  squarely  in  the  open 
in  this  campaign;  publicity  is  the  word — I  have  Mr. 
McVickar  for  my  authority.  Anybody  who  wants 
to  know  anything  about  the  railroad  company's 
business  in  this  State  can  learn  it  for  the  asking, 
and  at  first-hand.  Secrecy  and  all  the  various 
brands  of  political  claptrap  that  have  been  ad 
mitted  in  the  past  are  to  be  shown  the  door.  This 
is  the  intimation  that  was  made  to  me:  wasn't  it 
made  to  you?" 

Gantry  did  not  reply  directly  to  the  direct  de 
mand.  On  the  other  hand,  he  very  carefully  re 
frained  from  answering  it  in  any  degree  whatsoever. 

"You  have  your  job  to  hold  down  and  I  have 


THE  RANK  AND  FILE  127 

mine,"  he  rejoined.  "What  you  say  goes  as  it 
lies,  of  course;  but  just  the  same,  I  shouldn't  be 
too  righteously  hard  on  the  little  brothers,  if  I  were 
you." 

"If  by  the  ' little  brothers'  you  mean  the  pie- 
eaters,  I'm  going  to  fire  them  out,  neck  and  crop, 
Richard.  They  make  me  excessively  weary." 

Gantry's  playful  mood  fell  away  from  him  like  a 
cast-off  garment. 

"I  don't  quite  believe  I'd  do  that,  if  I  were  you, 
Evan.  There  are  pie-eaters  on  both  sides  in  every 
political  contest,  and  while  they  can't  do  any  cause 
any  great  amount  of  good,  they  can  often  do  a  good 
bit  of  harm.  I  wouldn't  be  too  hard  on  them,  if  I 
were  you." 

"What  would  you  do? — or,  rather,  what  did  you 
do  when  you  were  managing  the  State  campaign 
two  years  ago?"  inquired  Blount  pointedly. 

"I  cut  the  pie,"  said  the  traffic  manager  simply. 

"In  other  words,  you  let  this  riffraff  blackmail 
you  and,  incidentally,  put  a  big  black  mark  against 
the  company's  good  name." 

"Oh,  no;  I  wouldn't  put  it  quite  that  strong. 
Not  many  of  these  little  fellows  ask  for  money,  or 
expect  it.  A  free  ride  now  and  then  in  the  var 
nished  cars  is  about  all  they  look  for." 

"But  you  can't  give  them  passes  under  the  inter 
state  law,"  protested  the  purist. 

"Not  outside  of  the  State,  of  course.  But  inside 
of  the  State  boundaries  it's  our  own  business." 

"You  mean  it  was  our  own  business,  previous  to 


128    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

the  passage  of  the  State  rate  law  two  years  ago," 
corrected  Blount. 

"It  is  our  own  business  to  this  good  day — in  ef 
fect.  That  part  of  the  law  has  been  a  complete  dead- 
letter  from  the  day  the  governor  signed  it.  Why, 
bless  your  innocent  heart,  Evan,  the  very  men  who 
argued  the  loudest  and  voted  the  most  spitefully  for 
it  came  to  me  for  their  return  tickets  home  at  the 
end  of  the  session.  Of  course,  we  kept  the  letter 
of  the  law.  It  says  that  no  'free  passes'  shall  be 
given.  We  didn't  issue  passes;  we  merely  gave 
them  tickets  out  of  the  case  and  charged  them  up 
to  ' expense." 

"Faugh!"  said  Blount,  "you  make  me  sick! 
Gantry,  it's  that  same  childish  whipping  of  the  devil 
around  the  stump  by  the  corporations — an  expedi 
ent  that  wouldn't  deceive  the  most  ignorant  voter 
that  ever  cast  a  ballot — it's  that  very  thing  that 
has  stirred  the  whole  nation  up  to  this  unreasonable 
fight  against  corporate  capital.  Don't  you  see  it?" 

Gantry  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  guess  I  take  the  line  of  the  least  resistance — 
like  the  majority  of  them,"  was  the  colorless  reply. 
"When  it  comes  down  to  practical  politics 

"Don't  say  'practical  polities'  to  me,  Dick!" 
rasped  the  reformer.  "We've  got  the  strongest  ar 
gument  in  the  world  in  the  fact  that  the  present 
law  is  an  unfair  one,  needing  modification  or  repeal. 
We  mustn't  spoil  that  argument  by  becoming  law 
breakers  ourselves  and  descending  to  the  methods 
of  the  grafters  and  the  machine  politicians  the 


THE  RANK  AND   FILE  129 

country  over.  If  you  have  been  sending  these  pie- 
eaters  to  me,  stop  it — don't  do  it  any  more.  I  have 
no  earthly  use  for  them;  and  they  won't  have  any 
use  for  me  after  I  open  up  on  them  and  tell  them 
a  few  things  they  don't  seem  to  know,  or  to  care 
to  know." 

"I  don't  believe  I'd  do  anything  brash,"  Gantry 
suggested  mildly,  and  he  was  still  saying  the  same 
thing  in  diversified  forms  when  Blount  led  the  way 
back  to  the  crowded  drawing-rooms. 

Dating  from  this  little  heart-to-heart  talk  with 
the  traffic  manager,  Blount  began  to  carry  out  the 
new  policy — the  starvation  policy,  as  it  soon  came 
to  be  known  among  the  would-be  henchmen.  The 
result  was  not  altogether  reassuring.  The  first  few 
rebuffs  he  administered  left  him  with  the  feeling  that 
he  was  winning  Pyrrhic  victories;  it  was  as  if  he 
were  trying  to  handle  a  complicated  mechanism  with 
the  working  details  of  which  he  was  only  theoreti 
cally  familiar.  There  were  wheels  within  wheels, 
and  the  application  of  the  brakes  to  the  smallest 
of  them  led  to  discordant  janglings  throughout  the 
whole. 

Many  of  the  small  grafters  were  on  the  pay-rolls 
of  the  railroad  company,  and  Blount  was  soon  defi 
nitely  assured  of  what  he  had  before  only  suspected 
— that  they  were  merely  nominal  employees  given 
a  pay-roll  standing  so  that  there  might  be  an  excuse 
for  giving  them  free  transportation,  and  a  retainer 
in  the  form  of  wages,  if  needful. 

In  many  cases  the  ramifications  of  the  petty  graft 


130    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

were  exasperatingly  intricate.  For  example:  one 
Thomas  Gryson,  who  was  on  the  pay-rolls  as  a 
machinist's  helper  in  the  repair  shops,  demanded 
free  transportation  across  the  State  for  eight  mem 
bers  of  his  "family."  Questioned  closely,  he  ad 
mitted  that  the  "family"  was  his  only  by  a  figure 
of  speech;  that  the  relationship  was  entirely  polit 
ical.  Blount  promptly  refused  to  recommend  the 
issuing  of  employees'  passes  for  the  eight,  and  the 
result  was  an  immediate  call  from  Bentley,  the  di 
vision  master  mechanic. 

"About  that  fellow  Gryson,"  Bentley  began; 
"can't  you  manage  some  way  to  get  him  transpor 
tation  for  his  Jonesboro  crowd?  He  is  going  to 
make  trouble  for  us  if  you  don't." 

Blount  was  justly  indignant.  "  Gryson  is  on  your 
pay-roll,"  he  retorted.  "Why  don't  you  recom 
mend  the  passes  yourself,  on  account  of  the  motive- 
power  department,  if  he  is  entitled  to  them?" 

"I  can't,"  admitted  the  master  mechanic.  "I  am 
held  down  to  the  issuing  of  passes  to  employees  trav 
elling  on  company  business  only.  We  can  stretch  it 
a  little  sometimes,  of  course,  but  we  can't  make  it 
cover  the  whole  earth." 

"Neither  can  I!"  Blount  exploded.  "Let  it  be 
understood,  once  for  all,  Mr.  Bentley,  that  I  am 
not  the  scape-goat  for  all  the  other  departments!  I 
have  cut  it  off  short;  I  am  not  recommending 
passes  for  anybody." 

"But,  suffering  Scott,  Mr.  Blount,  weVe  simply 
got  to  take  care  of  Tom  Gryson!  He's  the  boss  of 


THE  RANK  AND  FILE  131 

his  ward,  and  he  has  influence  enough  to  turn  even 
our  own  employees  against  us!" 

"Influence?"  scoffed  the  young  man  from  the 
East.  "How  does  he  acquire  his  influence?  It  is 
merely  another  illustration  of  the  vicious  circle; 
you  put  into  his  hands  the  club  with  which  he 
proceeds  to  knock  you  down.  Let  me  tell  you  what 
I'm  telling  everybody;  if  we  want  a  square  deal, 
we've  got  to  set  the  example  by  being  square.  And, 
by  Heavens,  Mr.  Bentley,  we're  going  to  set  the 
example!" 

The  master  mechanic  went  away  silenced,  but  by 
no  means  convinced;  and  a  week  later  Gryson,  who 
in  appearance  was  a  typical  tough,  and  who  in  re 
ality  was  a  post-graduate  of  the  hard  school  of  vio 
lence  and  ruffianage  obtaining  in  the  lawless  mining- 
camps  of  the  Carnadine  Hills,  sauntered  into  Blount's 
office  with  his  cigar  at  the  belligerent  angle  and  an 
insolent  taunt  in  his  mouth. 

"Well,  pardner,  we  got  them  dickie-birds  o'  mine 
over  to  Jonesboro,  after  so  long  a  time,  and  no 
thanks  to  you,  neither.  I  just  blew  in  to  tell  you 
that  I'm  goin'  to  hit  you  ag'in  about  day  after  to 
morrow,  and  if  you  don't  come  across  there's  goin' 
to  be  somethin'  doin';  see?" 

Blount  sprang  from  his  chair  and  forgot  to  be 
politic. 

"  You  needn't  come  to  me  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
or  any  other  time,"  he  raged.  "I'm  through  with 
you  and  your  tribe.  Get  out!" 

After  Gryson,  muttering  threats,  had  gone,  the 


132    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

young  campaign  manager  had  an  attack  of  moral 
nausea.  It  seemed  such  a  prodigious  waste  of  time 
and  energy  to  traffic  and  chaffer  with  these  petty 
scoundrels.  Thus  far,  every  phase  of  the  actual 
political  problem  seemed  to  be  meanly  degrading, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  long  keenly  for  an  oppor 
tunity  to  do  some  really  worthy  thing. 

Notwithstanding,  his  ideals  were  still  unshaken. 
He  still  clung  to  the  belief  that  the  corporation, 
which  was  created  by  the  law  and  could  exist  only 
under  the  protection  of  the  law,  must,  of  necessity, 
be  a  law-abiding  entity.  It  was  manifestly  unfair 
to  hold  it  responsible  for  the  disreputable  political 
methods  of  those  whom  it  could  never  completely 
control — methods,  too,  which  had  been  forced  upon 
it  by  the  necessity,  or  the  fancied  necessity,  of  meet 
ing  conditions  as  they  were  found. 

As  if  in  answer  to  the  wish  that  he  might  find  the 
worthier  task,  it  was  on  this  day  of  Gryson's  visit 
that  Blount  was  given  his  first  opportunity  of  en 
tering  the  wider  field.  A  letter  from  a  local  party 
chairman  in  a  distant  mining  town  brought  an  invi 
tation  of  the  kind  for  which  he  had  been  waiting 
and  hoping.  He  was  asked  to  participate  in  a  joint 
debate  at  the  campaign  opening  in  the  town  in 
question,  and  he  was  so  glad  of  the  chance  that  he 
instantly  wired  his  acceptance. 

That  evening,  at  the  Inter-Mountain  cafe  dinner 
hour,  he  found  his  father  dining  alone  and  joined 
him.  In  a  burst  of  confidence  he  told  of  the  invi 
tation. 


THE  RANK  AND   FILE  133 

"That's  good;  that's  the  real  thing  this  time, 
isn't  it?"  was  the  senator's  even-toned  comment. 
"Gives  you  a  right  nice  little  chance  to  shine  the 
way  you  can  shine  best."  Then:  "That  was  one 
of  the  things  McVickar  wanted  you  for,  wasn't  it? 
— speech-making  and  the  like?" 

"Why,  yes;  he  intimated  that  there  might  be 
some  public  speaking,"  admitted  the  younger  man. 

"Well,  what-all  are  you  going  to  tell  these  Ophir 
fellows  when  you  get  over  there,  son?"  asked  the 
veteran  quizzically.  "Going  to  offer  'em  all  free 
passes  anywhere  they  want  to  go  if  they'll  promise 
to  vote  for  the  railroad  candidates?" 

"Not  this  year,"  was  the  laughing  reply.  "As 
I  told  you  a  while  back,  we've  stopped  all  that." 

"You  have,  eh?  I  reckon  that  will  be  mighty 
sorry  news  for  a  good  many  people  in  the  old  Sage 
brush  State — mighty  sorry  news.  You  really  reckon 
you  have  stopped  it,  do  you,  son?" 

"I  not  only  believe  it;  I  am  in  a  position  to  assert 
it  definitely." 

"McVickar  has  told  you  it  was  stopped?" 

The  newly  fledged  political  manager  tried  to  be 
strictly  truthful. 

"I  have  had  but  the  one  interview  with  Mr.  Mc 
Vickar,  but  in  that  talk  he  gave  me  to  understand 
that  my  recommendations  would  be  given  due  con 
sideration.  And  I  have  said  my  say  pretty  em 
phatically." 

The  senator's  smile  was  not  derisive;  it  was  merely 
lenient. 


134    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Sat  on  'em  good  and  hard,  did  you?  That's 
right,  son;  don't  you  ever  be  afraid  to  say  what 
you  mean,  and  to  say  it  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
That's  the  Blount  way,  and  I  reckon  we've  got  to 
keep  the  family  ball  rolling — you  and  I.  Don't  for 
get  that,  when  you're  making  your  appeal  to  those 
horny-handed  sons  of  toil  over  yonder  at  Ophir. 
Give  'em  straight  facts,  and  back  up  the  facts  with 
figures — if  you  happen  to  have  the  figures.  When 
do  you  pull  out  for  the  mining-camp?" 

"To-night,  at  nine-thirty.  I  can't  get  there  in 
time  if  I  wait  for  the  morning  train."  Then, 
dismissing  the  political  topic  abruptly:  "What  do 
you  hear  from  Professor  Anners?" 

"Oh,  he's  having  the  time  of  his  life.  I  got  him 
a  State  permit,  and  scraped  him  up  a  bunch  of 
pick-and-shovel  men,  and  he  is  digging  out  those 
fossil  skeletons  by  the  wagon-load." 

"And  Miss  Anners?"  pursued  Patricia's  lover. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  was  having  the  time 
of  her  life,  too.  I've  given  her  the  little  four-seated 
car  to  call  her  own  while  she  is  out  here,  and  she 
and  Honoria  go  careering  around  the  country — 
breaking  the  speed  limit  every  minute  in  the  day, 
I  reckon." 

"I'm  glad  you  are  giving  her  a  good  time,"  said 
Evan,  and  he  looked  glad.  Then  he  added  regret 
fully:  "I  wish  I  could  get  a  chance  to  chase  around 
a  little  with  them.  I  have  seen  almost  nothing  of 
them  since  they  came  West.  I  should  think  Mrs. 
Blount  might  bring  Patricia  down  to  the  city  once 
in  a  while." 


THE  RANK  AND  FILE       ,  135 

"Well,  now!  perhaps  the  young  woman  doesn't 
want  to  come,"  laughed  the  senator.  "You  told 
me  you  hadn't  got  her  tag,  son,  and  I'm  beginning 
to  believe  it's  the  sure-enough  truth.  What  has  she 
got  against  you,  anyway?" 

"Nothing;  nothing  in  the  wide  world,  save  that 
I  don't  fit  into  her  scheme  for  her  life-work." 

The  senator  was  eating  calmly  through  his  dessert. 
"If  you  hadn't  made  up  your  mind  so  pointedly  to 
dislike  Honoria,  you  might  be  getting  a  few  tips  on 
that  'career'  business  along  about  now,  son,"  he 
remarked,  and  Evan  was  silent — had  to  be  silent. 
For,  you  see,  he  had  been  charging  Patricia's  con 
tinued  absence  from  the  capital  to  nothing  less  than 
spiteful  design  on  the  part  of  his  father's  wife. 

It  was  at  the  cigar  smoking  in  the  lobby,  after 
the  young  man  had  made  his  preparations  for  the 
journey  and  was  waiting  for  the  train-caller's  an 
nouncement,  that  the  senator  said  quite  casually: 
"It's  too  bad  you're  going  out  of  town  to-night,  son. 
Honoria  'phoned  me  a  little  spell  ago  that  she  and 
Patricia  would  be  driving  down  after  their  dinner 
to  take  in  the  Weatherford  reception.  You'll  have 
to  miss  'em,  won't  you?" 

The  announcer  was  chanting  the  call  for  the 
night  train  west,  and  the  joint-debater  got  up  and 
thrust  his  hand-bag  savagely  into  the  hand  of  the 
nearest  porter. 

"Isn't  that  just  my  infernal  luck!"  he  lamented. 
Then:  "Give  them  my  love,  and  tell  them  I  hope 
they  will  stay  until  I  get  back." 

The  senator  rose  and  shook  hands  with  the  de- 


136    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

parting  debater.  "  Shall  I  say  that  to  both  of  'em?  " 
he  asked,  with  the  quizzical  smile  which  Evan  was 
learning  to  expect. 

"Yes ;  to  both  of  them,  if  you  like — only  I  suppose 
Mrs.  Blount  will  hold  it  against  me.  Good-night 
and  good-by.  I'll  be  back  day  after  to-morrow,  if 
the  Ophir  miners  don't  mob  me." 

It  was  only  a  few  minutes  after  Evan  Blount 's 
train  had  steamed  Ophir-ward  out  of  the  Sierra 
Avenue  station  that  a  dust-covered  touring-car  drew 
up  at  the  curb  in  front  of  the  Inter-Mountain,  and 
the  same  porter  who  had  put  Blount 's  hand-bag 
into  the  taxicab  opened  the  tonneau  door  for  two 
ladies  in  muffling  motor-coats  and  heavy  veils. 

The  senator  met  the  two  late  travellers  in  the 
vestibule,  and  while  the  three  were  waiting  for  an 
elevator  a  rapid  fire  of  low-toned  question  and  an 
swer  passed  between  husband  and  wife. 

"You  got  Evan  out  of  the  way?"  whispered  the 
wife. 

The  husband  nodded.  "  That  was  easy.  I  passed 
the  word  to  Steuchfield,  and  he  helped  out  on  that 
— invited  Evan  to  come  to  Ophir  to  speak  in  a 
joint  debate.  He  left  on  the  night  train." 

"And  Hathaway?    Will  he  be  here?" 

"He  is  here.  Gantry  has  turned  him  down,  ac 
cording  to  instructions,  and  he  is  clawing  about  in 
the  air,  trying  to  get  a  fresh  hold.  I  bluffed  him; 
told  him  he'd  have  to  make  his  peace  with  you  for 
something,  I  didn't  know  what,  before  I  could  talk 
to  him." 


THE  RANK  AND  FILE  137 

Miss  Aimers  was  watching  the  elevator  signal 
glow  as  the  car  descended,  and  the  wife's  voice 
sank  to  a  still  lower  whisper. 

"He  will  be  at  the  Weatherfords'?"  she  inquired 
eagerly. 

"He  is  right  sure  to  be;  I  told  him  you  would  be 
there." 

The  small  plotter  nodded  approval. 

"Give  us  half  an  hour  to  dress,  and  have  the  car 
ready,"  she  directed;  and  then  the  senator  put  the 
two  into  the  elevator  and  turned  away  to  finish  his 
cigar. 


IN  THE  HERBARIUM 

THE  Weatherfords,  multimillionaire  mine-people, 
and  so  newly  rich  that  the  crisp  bank-notes  fairly 
crackled  when  Mrs.  Weatherford  spent  them,  kept 
their  lackeyed  and  liveried  state  in  a  castle-like 
mansion  in  Mesa  Circle,  the  most  expensive,  if  not 
the  most  aristocratic,  no-thoroughfare  of  the  capital 
city.  Weatherford,  the  father,  egged  on  by  Mrs. 
Weatherford,  had  political  aspirations  pointing  to 
ward  a  United  States  senatorship,  the  election  to 
which  would  fall  within  the  province  of  the  next 
legislature.  The  mine-owner  himself,  a  pudgy  little 
man  with  a  bald  spot  on  top  of  his  head  and  a 
corner-grocery  point  of  view  carefully  tucked  away 
inside  of  it — an  outlook  upon  life  which  was  a  sur 
vival  from  his  hard-working  past — would  willingly 
have  dodged,  but  Mrs.  Weatherford  was  inexorable. 
There  were  two  grown  daughters  and  a  growing 
son,  and  it  was  for  these  that  she  was  socially  am 
bitious. 

The  reception  for  which  the  senator's  wife  and 
her  guest  had  driven  thirty  miles  through  the  dust 
of  the  sage-brush  hills  was  one  of  the  many  moves 
in  Mrs.  Weatherford's  private  campaign.  For  the 

138 


IN  THE  HERBARIUM  139 

opening-gun  occasion  the  great  house  in  Mesa  Circle 
was  lighted  from  basement  to  turret — to  all  of  the 
numerous  turrets;  an  awning  fringed  with  electric 
bulbs  sheltered  the  carpeted  walk  from  the  street 
to  the  grand  entrance,  an  army  of  lackeys  paraded 
in  the  vestibule,  and  the  wives  and  daughters  of 
the  bravest  and  best  in  the  capital  city's  political 
contingent  stood  with  Mrs.  Weatherford  in  the  long 
receiving-line. 

From  room  to  room  in  the  vast  house  a  curiously 
assorted  throng  of  the  bidden  ones  worked  its  way 
as  the  jam  and  crush  permitted.  A  firm  believer 
in  the  maxim  that  in  numbers  there  is  strength,  the 
hostess  had  made  her  invitation-list  long  and  cath 
olic.  For  the  gossips  there  were  the  crowded  draw 
ing-rooms,  for  the  hungry  there  were  Lucullian  tables, 
and  for  the  sentimentalists  there  was  the  conserva 
tory. 

It  was  a  mark  of  the  unashamed  newness  of  the 
Weatherford  riches  that  the  conservatory,  a  glass- 
and-iron  greenhouse,  built  out  as  an  extension  of 
one  of  the  drawing-rooms,  was  called  "the  herba 
rium."  It  was  a  reproduction,  on  a  generous  scale, 
of  a  tropical  garden.  Half -grown  palms  and  banana- 
trees  made  a  well-ordered  jungle  of  the  softly  lighted 
interior;  and  if,  in  the  gathering  of  her  floral  treas 
ures,  Mrs.  Weatherford  had  omitted  any  precious 
bit  of  greenery  whose  cost  would  have  shed  addi 
tional  lustre  upon  the  Weatherford  resources,  it  was 
because  no  one  had  remembered  to  mention  the 
name  of  it  to  her. 


140    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Ex-Senator  Blount's  party  of  three  was  fashion 
ably  late  at  the  function  in  Mesa  Circle,  but  in  the 
crush  filling  the  spacious  drawing-rooms  the  hostess 
and  her  long  line  of  receiving  assistants  were  still 
on  duty.  Having  successfully  passed  the  line  with 
her  husband  and  Patricia,  little  Mrs.  Blount  looked 
about  her,  saw  Mr.  Richard  Gantry,  signalled  to 
him  with  her  eyes,  and,  with  the  traffic  manager  for 
her  centre-rush  to  wedge  a  way  through  the  crowded 
rooms,  was  presently  lost  to  sight — at  least  from 
Miss  Anners's  point  of  view. 

Whether  she  knew  it  or  not,  from  the  moment  of 
her  appearance  at  the  hostess's  end  of  the  long  re 
ceiving-line,  the  senator's  wife  had  been  marked  and 
followed  in  her  slow  progress  through  the  rooms  by 
a  thin-faced  man  who  seemed  to  be  nervously  trying 
to  hunch  himself  into  better  relations  with  his  ill- 
fitting  dress-coat,  an  eager  gentleman  whose  hawk 
like  eyes  never  lost  sight  of  the  little  lady  with  her 
hand  on  Gantry's  arm.  Only  the  senator  saw  and 
remarked  this  bit  of  by-play,  and  he  looked  as  if 
he  were  enjoying  it,  the  shrewd  gray  eyes  lighting 
humorously  as  he  bent  to  hear  what  Patricia  was 
saying. 

When  his  quarry  stopped,  as  she  did  frequently 
to  chat  with  one  or  another  of  the  guests,  the  man 
with  the  hawk-like  profile  and  the  nervous  hunch 
circled,,  warily,  and  once  or  twice  seemed  about  to 
make  the  opportunity  which  was  so  slow  in  making 
itself.  But  it  was  not  until  the  little  lady  in  the 
claret-colored  party-gown  had  drifted,  still  with  a 


IN  THE  HERBARIUM  141 

hand  on  Gantry's  arm,  in  among  the  palm  and  ba 
nana  trees  of  the  herbarium  that  the  bird-of-prey 
person  made  his  swoop.  A  moment  later  Gantry, 
taking  a  low-toned  command  from  his  companion, 
was  disappearing  in  the  direction  of  the  refreshment- 
tables,  and  the  lady  looked  up  to  say:  "Dear  me, 
Mr.  Hathaway,  you  almost  startled  me!" 

"Did  I?"  said  the  lumber-king,  rather  grimly,  if 
he  meant  the  query  to  be  apologetic.  "I  am  sorry. 
I  didn't  mean  to;  but  Mrs.  Gordon  said  I  would 
find  you  here,  and  so  I  took  the  liberty  of  following 
you.  I'm  needing  a  little  straightening  out,  you 
know,  and — ah — would  you  mind  letting  me  talk 
business  with  you  for  a  minute  or  two,  Mrs. 
Blount?" 

She  drew  her  gown  aside,  and  made  room  for  him 
on  the  carved  rustic  settee,  which  was  exceedingly 
uncomfortable  to  sit  in,  but  which  was  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  background  of  gigantic  palmettos. 
He  nodded  gratefully  and  took  the  place,  and  the 
manner  of  his  sitting  down  was  that  of  a  man  who 
wears  evening-clothes  only  under  compulsion. 

"Business?"  she  was  saying.  "Certainly  not;  if 
you  can  talk  business  in  such  a  place  as  this" — 
giving  him  the  coveted  permission. 

"Perhaps  it  ain't  what  you'd  call  business — maybe 
it's  only  politics,"  he  resumed;  then,  with  the 
abruptness  of  one  whose  dealings  have  been  with 
men  oftener  than  with  women:  "In  the  first  place, 
I  wish  you'd  tell  me  what  I've  been  doing  to  get 
myself  into  your  bad  books." 


142    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

She  laughed  easily.  "Who  said  you  had  been 
doing  anything,  Mr.  Hathaway?"  she  asked. 

"The  senator,"  he  answered  shortly,  adding: 
"  He  told  me  I'd  have  to  make  my  peace  with  you." 

She  had  developed  a  sudden  interest  in  the  quaint 
Japanese  figures  on  the  ivory  sticks  of  her  fan. 
"You  want  something,  Mr.  Hathaway;  what  is  it?" 
she  inquired. 

"I  want  to  be  put  next  in  this  pigs-in-clover  rail 
road  puzzle,"  was  the  blunt  statement  of  the  need. 
"Our  freight  contract  with  the  Transcontinental  is 
about  to  expire,  and  I'd  like  to  get  it  renewed  on 
the  same  terms  as  before." 

"Well,"  she  said  ingenuously,  "why  don't  you 
doit?" 

"I  can't,"  he  blustered.  "Everybody  has  sud 
denly  grown  mysterious  or  gone  crazy — I  don't 
know  which.  Kittredge,  the  general  superintend 
ent,  don't  seem  to  remember  that  we  ever  had 
any  contract,  and  Gantry  is  just  as  bad.  And  when 
I  go  to  the  senator  he  tells  me  I  must  make  my 
peace  with  you.  I'm  left  out  in  the  cold;  I  can't 
begin  to  sabe  what  the  senator  and  these  railroad 
brass-collar  men  are  driving  at.  I've  got  something 
to  sell;  something  that  the  railroad  company  needs. 
Where  the  d— —  I  mean,  where's  the  hitch?" 

The  small  person  in  the  fetching  party-gown 
reached  up  and  pinched  a  leaf  from  a  fragrant  shrub 
fronting  the  settee. 

"Mr.  Gantry  has  gone  to  fetch  me  an  ice,  and  he 
will  be  back  in  a  very  few  minutes,"  she  suggested 


IN  THE  HERBARIUM  143 

mildly.  "  Consider  your  peace  made,  Mr.  Hatha 
way,  and  tell  me  what  I  can  do  for  you/' 

"You  can  put  me  next,"  said  the  lumber  lord, 
going  back  to  the  only  phrase  that  seemed  to  fit 
the  exigencies  of  the  case.  "Why  the — why  can't 
we  get  our  contract  renewed?" 

The  little  lady  was  opening  and  shutting  her  fan 
slowly.  "What  was  your  contract?"  she  inquired 
innocently. 

"If  I  thought  you  didn't  know,  I'd  go  a  long 
time  without  telling  you,"  he  said  bluntly.  "But 
you  do  know.  It's  the  rebate  lumber  rate  from  our 
mills  at  Twin  Buttes  and  elsewhere,  and  it  was  given 
us  two  years  ago,  a  few  days  before  election." 

"And  the  consideration?"  she  asked,  looking  up 
quickly. 

"You  know  that,  too,  Mrs.  Blount.  It  was  the 
swinging  of  the  solid  employees'  vote  of  the  Twin 
Buttes  Lumber  Company  over  to  the  railroad  ticket." 

"And  you  wish  to  make  the  same  arrangement 
again?" 

"Exactly.  We've  got  to  have  that  preferential 
rate  or  go  out  of  business." 

"With  whom  did  you  make  the  contract  two 
years  ago?" 

"With  Mr.  McVickar,  verbally.  Of  course,  there 
wasn't  anything  put  down  in  black  and  white,  but 
the  railroad  folks  did  their  part  and  we  did  ours." 

"I  see — a  gentleman's  agreement,"  she  murmured; 
and  then:  "You  have  tried  Mr.  McVickar  again?" 

"Yes,  and  he  referred  me  to  Gantry." 


144    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"And  what  did  Mr.  Gantry  say?" 

"I  couldn't  get  him  to  say  anything  with  any 
sense  in  it,"  said  the  lumber  magnate  grittingly. 
"The  most  I  could  get  out  of  him  was  that  I  would 
have  to  see  the  boss." 

"And  instead  of  doing  that  you  went  to  see  the 
senator?"  she  asked. 

"Of  course  I  did.  Who  else  would  Gantry  mean 
by  'the  boss 7"  demanded  the  befogged  one. 

"Possibly  he  meant  the  senator's  son,"  she  vent 
ured,  tapping  a  pretty  cheek  with  the  folded  fan. 
"Have  you  been  leaving  Evan  Blount  out  in  all  of 
this?"  ' 

"I  didn't  know  where  to  put  him  in.  That's  what 
brings  me  here  to-night.  The  senator,  or  McVickar, 
or  both  of  them  together,  have  set  the  whole  State 
to  running  around  in  circles  with  this  appointment 
of  young  Blount.  Some  say  it's  a  deal  between  the 
senator  and  McVickar,  and  some  say  it's  a  fight. 
Half  of  the  professional  spellbinders  are  walking  in 
their  sleep  over  it  right  now.  I  thought  maybe 
you  could  tell  me,  Mrs.  Blount." 

"I  can't  tell  you  anything  that  would  help  the 
people  who  are  walking  in  their  sleep,"  she  returned, 
"but  I  might  offer  a  suggestion  in  your  personal 
affair.  Mr.  Evan  Blount  is  your  man." 

Hathaway  pursed  his  thin  lips  and  frowned. 
"I'm  in  bad  there — right  at  the  jump,"  he  objected. 

"I  know,"  she  shot  back  quickly.  "For  some 
reason  best  known  to  yourself,  you  saw  fit  to  have 
Mr.  Evan  waylaid  and  man-handled  on  the  first 


IN  THE  HERBARIUM  145 

night  of  his  return  to  his  native  State.  But  you 
needn't  worry  about  that.  He  won't  hold  it  against 
you.  I'm  sure  you'll  find  him  entirely  amenable  to 


reason." 


The  tyrant  of  "  timber-jacks "  frowned  again. 
"H'm — reason,  eh?  How  big  a  block  of  Twin 
Buttes  stock  shall  I  offer  him?" 

Her  laugh  was  a  silvery  peal  of  derision. 

"You  always  figure  in  dollars  and  cents,  don't 
you,  Mr.  Simon  Peter  Hathaway?"  she  mocked. 

"I  have  always  found  it  the  cheapest  in  the  end." 

"Listen,"  she  said,  with  the  folded  fan  held  up 
like  a  monitory  finger.  "Mr.  Gantry  may  be  back 
any  minute,  and  I  can  give  you  only  the  tiniest 
hint.  You  must  go  to  Mr.  Evan  Blount  and  appeal 
to  him  frankly,  as  one  business  man  to  another." 

"But  I  have  heard — they  say  he's  all  kinds  of  a 
crank." 

"Never  mind  what  you  have  heard.  Tell  him  all 
the  facts  and  ask  him  to  help  you,  and  for  mercy's 
sake  don't  offer  him  a  block  of  your  stock.  Put  it 
where  it  will  do  the  most  good.  Put  it  in  the  name 
of  Professor  William  J.  Aimers,  of  Cambridge,  Mas 
sachusetts,  and  show  Mr.  Blount  how  dreadfully 
disastrous  the  loss  of  the  preferential  freight  rate 
would  be  to  all  the  poor  people  in  your  list  of  stock 
holders — including  Professor  Anners." 

Hathaway  drew  down  his  cuff  and  made  a  pencil 
memorandum  of  the  name  and  address  of  the  new 
beneficiary. 

"You'll  notice  that  I'm  not  asking  any  foolish 


146    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

questions  about  who  this  Professor  Anners  is,  or 
why  I  should  be  making  him  a  present  of  a  block 
of  stock.  If  I  don't,  it's  because  what  you  say  goes 
as  it  lies.  Anything  else?" 

"Yes;  don't  fail  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  Mr. 
Blount,  and  don't  let  him  put  you  off.  He  may 
pretend  to  be  very  angry  at  first,  but  you  won't 
mind  that." 

"I  won't  mind  anything  if  I  can  bring  this  busi 
ness  down  to  the  every-day  commonplace  earth  once 
more.  You  and  the  senator  and  Gantry  and  Mc- 
Vickar  are  playing  some  sort  of  a  game,  and  you 
ain't  showing  me  anything  more  than  the  back  of 
the  cards.  That's  all  right.  I  guess  I'm  fly  enough 
to  play  my  hand  blindfolded,  if  I've  got  to.  I  don't 
care,  just  so  I  win  the  odd  trick." 

Gantry  was  coming  down  the  avenue  of  banana- 
trees  with  the  ice  he  had  taken  so  much  time  to 
procure,  and  the  lumber  magnate  rose  reluctantly. 
There  was  time  for  only  one  more  question,  and  he 
put  it  hastily. 

"When  and  where  can  I  find  Evan  Blount?"  he 
asked. 

"The  day  after  to-morrow,  at  his  office  in  Temple 
Court.  He  is  out  of  the  city  now,  but — "  Here 
Gantry's  coming  put  an  end  to  the  private  confer 
ence,  and  the  president  of  the  Twin  Buttes  com 
pany  went  his  way. 

Not  until  they  had  served  out  their  full  sentence 
at  Mrs.  Weatherford's  crush,  and  were  back  in  the 
private  dining-room  suite  at  the  Inter-Mountain, 


IN  THE  HERBARIUM  147 

with  Miss  Anners  safely  behind  the  closed  door  of 
her  own  apartment,  did  the  small  conspirator  pass 
the  word  of  good  hope  on  to  her  husband. 

"It  is  working  beautifully, "  she  exulted.  "He 
will  go  to  see  Evan  day  after  to-morrow — and  after 
that,  the  deluge/' 


XI 

THE  GREAT  GAME 

IF  Evan  Blount,  as  the  representative  of  the  un 
popular  railroad,  had  been  anticipating  an  unfriendly 
reception  at  the  great  gold-camp  in  the  Carnadine 
Hills,  he  was  agreeably  disappointed.  A  committee 
of  citizens,  headed  by  Jasper  Steuchfield,  the  "Para- 
mounter"  chairman  for  Carnadine  County,  met  him 
at  the  train,  escorted  him  to  the  hotel,  and,  during 
the  afternoon  which  was  at  his  disposal,  gave  him 
joyously  and  hilariously  the  freedom  of  the  camp. 

The  political  meeting,  called  for  an  early  hour  in 
the  evening,  was  held  in  the  Carnadine  Mining 
Company's  ore-shed,  electric-lighted  for  the  occa 
sion.  When  the  hour  came  the  big  shed  was  packed 
with  an  enthusiastic  audience,  and  there  were  pro 
longed  cheers  and  hand-clappings  when  the  railroad 
advocate  took  his  seat  on  the  improvised  platform 
as  the  guest  of  the  local  committee. 

Later,  when  Judge  Crowley,  candidate  prospective 
on  the  popular  ticket  for  the  State  Senate,  opened 
the  joint  debate  with  a  shrewd  arraignment  of  the 
methods  of  the  railroad  company,  not  only  in  its 
dealings  with  the  public  as  a  common  carrier,  but 
also  in  the  pertinacity  with  which  it  invaded  the 

148 


THE  GREAT  GAME  149 

political  field,  there  was  tumultuous  applause;  but 
it  was  no  heartier  than  that  which  greeted  Blount 
when  he  rose  to  present  the  railroad  side  of  the 
argument. 

During  the  journey  from  the  capital,  which  had 
consumed  the  night  and  the  greater  portion  of  the 
forenoon,  he  had  prepared  his  speech.  His  argu 
ment — the  one  unanswerable  argument,  as  it  ap 
peared  to  him — was  the  absurdity  and  injustice  of  a 
law  which  presumed  to  limit  the  earning  power  of 
a  corporation  by  fixing  the  maximum  rates  it  might 
charge,  without  at  the  same  time  making  a  corre 
sponding  regulation  fixing  the  price  which  the  com 
pany  should  pay  for  its  labor  and  material. 

Upon  this  foundation  he  was  able  to  build  a  fair 
structure  of  oratory.  The  judge,  his  opponent,  was 
a  rather  turgid  man  whose  speech  had  abounded 
in  flights  of  denunciation  and  whose  appeal  had 
been  made  frankly  to  prejudice  and  party  rancor. 
Blount  took  his  cue  shrewdly.  Touching  lightly 
upon  the  public  grievances,  some  of  which  he  char 
acterized  as  just  and  entirely  defensible,  he  rang  the 
changes  calmly  and  logically  upon  the  square  deal, 
no  less  for  the  corporations  than  for  the  individual. 
"Take  it  to  yourselves,  you  merchants,"  he  urged. 
"Imagine  a  law  on  the  statute-books  fixing  the 
prices  at  which  you  shall  sell  your  goods,  and  that 
same  law  leaving  you  at  the  mercy  of  those  from 
whom  you  must  buy!  Take  it  to  yourselves,  you 
miners.  Suppose  the  legislature  had  enacted  a  law 
fixing  the  maximum  price  at  which  you  shall  sell 


150    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

your  skill  and  your  labor,  and  at  the  same  time 
leaving  it  optional  with  every  man  from  whom  you 
buy,  the  butcher,  the  baker,  the  grocer,  to  charge 
you  what  he  pleases  or  what  he  can  get!  That,  my 
good  friends,  is  the  situation  of  the  railroad  com 
pany  in  this  State  to-day" — and  he  went  on  to 
analyze  the  hard  situation,  filling  his  hour  very 
creditably  and,  if  the  frequent  bursts  of  applause 
could  be  taken  to  mean  anything,  to  the  complete 
satisfaction  of  his  hearers.  Indeed,  at  the  end  of 
his  argument  he  was  given  what  the  local  paper  of 
the  following  day  was  pleased  to  call  "a  spontane 
ous  and  pandemonious  ovation." 

After  the  cheering  and  hand-shaking,  Steuchfield 
and  his  fellow-committeemen  went  to  the  train  with 
the  visiting  speaker,  and  no  one  in  the  throng  of 
congratulators  was  more  enthusiastic  than  the  op 
position  chairman. 

"That  was  a  cracking  good  speech — a  great  speech, 
Mr.  Blount!"  he  said,  as  the  branch  train  rattled  in 
from  the  north.  "If  you  can  go  all  over  the  State 
making  as  good  talks  as  the  one  we've  just  heard, 
you'll  tie  the  whole  shooting-match  up  in  a  hard 
knot  for  us  fellows.  But  McVickar  won't  let  you 
do  it — not  by  a  long  shot!" 

The  potential  tier  of  hard  knots  laughed  genially. 
"I  don't  blame  you  for  wanting  to  be  shown,  Mr. 
Steuchfield.  But  I  can  assure  you  that  the  new 
policy  has  come  to  stay.  I  have  the  management 
behind  me  in  this  thing,  and  any  day  you'll  come 
down  to  the  capital  I'll  put  my  time  against  yours 


THE  GREAT  GAME  151 

and  try  to  show  you  that  we  are  out  for  open  pub 
licity  and  a  square  deal  for  every  man — including 
the  railroad  man." 

"All  right,"  was  the  cordial  reply.  "I'll  be  down 
along  some  of  these  days,  and  if  you  can  convince 
me  that  McVickar  isn't  going  into  politics  any  fur 
ther  than  youVe  gone  here  to-night,  I'll  promise  you 
to  come  back  to  Carnadine  and  tell  the  boys  the 
jig's  up." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  branch  train  pulled  out, 
and  the  chairman  and  his  fellow-committeemen  gave 
the  departing  joint-debater  three  cheers  and  an 
other.  After  the  red  tail-lights  of  the  train  had  dis 
appeared  around  the  first  curve,  Steuchfield  turned 
to  the  others  with  a  broad  grin. 

"Well,  boys,"  he  said,  "there  goes  a  mighty  nice 
young  fellow,  and  I  guess  we  did  it  up  all  right  for 
him  and  accordin'  to  orders.  I  don't  know  any 
more'n  a  sheep  what  sort  of  a  game  Dave  Sage 
brush  is  playin'  this  time,  but  whatever  he  says 
goes  as  she  lays,  and  I  figure  it  that  we  gave  the 
young  chip  o'  the  old  block  a  right  jubilant  little 
whirl.  Anyhow,  he  seemed  to  think  so." 

Blount  did  not  reach  his  office  in  the  capital  until 
the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  There  was  an  appall 
ing  accumulation  of  letters  and  telegrams  waiting 
to  be  worked  over,  but  he  let  the  desk  litter  go  un 
touched  and  called  up  the  hotel,  only  to  have  a 
small  disappointment  sent  in  over  the  wire.  His 
father,  Mrs.  Blount,  and  their  guest  had  left  for 
Wartrace  Hall  some  time  during  the  forenoon,  and 


152    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

there  had  been  nothing  said  in  the  clerk's  hearing 
about  their  return  to  the  city.  Blount  hung  up  the 
receiver,  called  it  one  more  opportunity  missed,  and 
sat  down  to  attack  the  desk  litter. 

Almost  the  first  thing  his  eye  lighted  upon  was 
a  stenographer's  note  stating  that  Mr.  Hathaway, 
president  of  the  Twin  Buttes  Lumber  Company, 
had  been  in  several  times,  and  was  very  anxious 
to  obtain  an  interview.  Blount  pressed  the  desk 
button,  and  the  stenographer  came  in  promptly. 

"This  man  Hathaway;  what  did  he  want?"  was 
the  brusque  question  shot  at  the  clerk. 

"I  don't  know.  He  said  he  was  stopping  at  the 
Inter-Mountain,  and  he  asked  me  to  let  him  know 
when  you  got  back." 

"Phone  him  and  tell  him  I'm  here,"  said  Blount; 
and  in  due  time  the  lumber  magnate  made  his  ap 
pearance. 

It  was  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  Mr.  Simon  Peter 
Hathaway 's  gifts  and  adroitness  that  he  should  begin 
by  attempting  a  clumsy  bit  of  acting. 

"Well,  I'll  be  shot!"  he  exclaimed.  "So  you're 
the  senator's  son,  are  you?  If  I'd  known  that,  that 
day  on  the  train  when  you  were  trying  to  make  me 
believe  you  were  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  men " 

Blount's  smile  was  neither  forgiving  nor  hostile. 

"In  a  way,  I  had  earned  what  was  handed  out 
to  me  afterward,  Mr.  Hathaway,  and  I'm  not  bear 
ing  malice,"  he  said  briefly.  "I  had  no  business  to 
let  you  get  away  with  the  wrong  impression,  but 
you  were  so  exceedingly  anxious  to  identify  me  with 


THE  GREAT  GAME  153 

the  Forest  Service  that  it  seemed  a  pity  to  dis 
appoint  you.  Since  your  scoundrels  didn't  kill  me, 
well  set  one  incident  against  the  other  and  forget 
both.  What  can  I  do  for  you  to-day?" 

By  this  time  the  lumber  lord  was  apparently  re 
covering  his  breath  and  some  measure  of  composure, 
though  he  had  lost  neither. 

"Great  Jehu!"  he  lamented.  "If  you  had  given 
me  half  a  hint  that  you  were  Dave  Blount's  son — 
but  you  didn't,  you  know,  and  now  I'm  handi 
capped  just  when  I  oughtn't  to  be.  I've  come  to 
talk  business  with  you  to-day,  Mr.  Blount,  and  here 
you've  got  me  on  the  run  the  first  crack  out  of  the 
box!" 

This  time  Blount's  smile  was  entirely  concilia 
tory. 

"Don't  let  that  little  misfire  in  the  Lost  Moun 
tain  foot-hills  embarrass  you,  Mr.  Hathaway.  I 
assure  you  I'm  not  at  all  vindictive." 

"All  right,"  said  the  visitor,  only  too  willing  to 
dismiss  the  Jack  Bar  to  incident  and  the  forced  awk 
wardness  of  the  pretended  surprise.  "That  being 
the  case,  I'll  jump  in  on  the  other  matter.  But 
first  I'd  like  to  ask  a  sort  of  personal  question:  I've 
been  given  to  understand  that  you  are  handling  the 
political  business  for  the  railroad  company  in  this 
campaign.  Is  that  right?" 

"It  is  and  it  isn't,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "The 
railroad  company  isn't  in  politics  in  this  campaign 
— as  a  political  factor,  I  mean.  What  we  are  try 
ing  to  do — and  all  we  are  trying  to  do — is  to  lay 


154    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

the  entire  matter  plainly  and  fairly  before  the  people 
of  this  State,  with  a  frank  appeal  for  the  relief  to 
which  we  are  entitled." 

"Ha — h'm — I  guess  I  get  you,  Mr.  Blount. 
That's  the  way  to  talk  it;  hi  public,  anyway.  But, 
just  between  us  two — I  guess  we  needn't  beat  the 
bushes  in  a  little  personal  talk  like  this — we  both 
know  there  are  certain  things  that  have  to  be  done 
in  every  campaign;  things  you  wouldn't  want  to 
publish  in  the  newspapers." 

Blount  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  the  conciliatory 
smile  disappeared. 

"What  kind  of  things?"  he  asked  abruptly. 

"Oh,  of  course,  I  don't  know  all  of  'em.  But 
there  was  one  little  arrangement  that  was  made  two 
years  ago  with  us,  and  it  helped  out  both  ways.  I 
thought  I'd  come  around  and  see  if  it  couldn't  be 
worked  again." 

"State  the  facts,"  said  Blount  shortly. 

"It  was  like  this.  As  you  know,  we've  got  a 
number  of  plants  scattered  around  at  different 
places  in  the  State,  and,  one  way  and  another,  we 
employ  a  good  many  men.  These  men  are  resi 
dents  of  the  State,  but  you  couldn't  call  'em  citi 
zens  in  the  sense  that  they  take  any  active  interest 
in  what's  going  on.  They're  here  this  year,  and 
they  may  be  up  among  the  Oregon  redwoods  next 
year,  and  somewhere  else  the  year  after.  When 
they  vote  at  all  they  naturally  ask  us  how  we'd 
like  to  have  'em  vote;  and  that's  the  way  it  was 
two  years  ago  at  election  time." 


THE  GREAT  GAME  155 

"I  see.  But  how  does  this  concern  the  railroad 
company?  " 

"I'm  coming  to  that,  right  now.  Two  years  ago 
we  found  that  our  employees'  vote  was  big  enough 
to  turn  the  scale  in  four  of  the  legislative  districts 
and  to  cut  a  pretty  good-sized  figure  in  a  fifth.  This 
vote  was  worth  something  to  your  people,  and  the 
fact  was  properly  recognized.  I  don't  know  but 
what  I'm  telling  you  a  lot  of  stale  news,  but— 

"Go  on,  Mr.  Hathaway;  if  I  wasn't  greatly  in 
terested  in  the  beginning,  I  am  now.  How  was  the 
fact  recognized  by  the  Transcontinental  Railway 
Company?" 

"It  was  just  as  easy  as  twice  two.  The  Twin 
Buttes  Lumber  Company  is  practically  the  only 
heavy  lumber-shipper  in  this  inter-mountain  ter 
ritory,  and  it  was  given  a  preferential  rate  on  its 
products;  you  might  say  that  the  amount  of  busi 
ness  we  do  entitles  us  to  some  special  consideration, 
anyway.  There  wasn't  any  bargain  and  sale  about 
it,  you  understand.  It  was  just  a  sort  of  friendly 
recognition  of  our  help  in  the  election." 

"This  rate  is  lower  than  the  rate  made  to  other 
lumber-shippers?  " 

"Well,  yes;  but,  after  all,  it  isn't  any  big  thing. 
If  you  were  up  on  lumber  rates,  Mr.  Blount — as  I 
don't  suppose  you  are — you'd  know  that  the  special 
tariff  we  get  is  all  that  enables  us  to  live  and  do 
business." 

Blount  had  opened  his  penknife  and  was  absently 
sharpening  a  pencil. 


156    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"This  special  rate  you  refer  to,  Mr.  Hathaway/7 
he  said,  speaking  slowly  and  quite  distinctly — "am 
I  right  in  inferring  that  it  is  not  confined  strictly  to 
points  within  the  State  boundaries?" 

At  this  the  lumberman  repeated  a  phrase  which 
he  had  used  in  the  anxious  conference  in  the  Weath- 
erford  herbarium. 

"If  I  thought  you  didn't  know,  I'd  go  a  long 
time  without  telling  you,  Mr.  Blount.  But  of  course 
you  do  know.  If  you  wasn't  on  the  inside  of  all 
the  insides  you  wouldn't  be  sitting  here  pulling  the 
strings  for  McVickar.  The  rate  is  a  blanket;  it 
covers  all  shipments." 

Blount  nodded  and  his  apparent  coolness  was  no 
just  measure  of  the  inward  fires  the  crooked  lumber- 
king  was  kindling. 

"You  interest  me  greatly,  Mr.  Hathaway.  I  am 
a  little  new  to  these  things — as  you  intimated  a  few 
moments  ago.  How  is  this  matter  handled — by 
rebates,  I  suppose?" 

"N-not  exactly,"  was  the  hesitating  denial. 
"That  would  be  too  risky  for  both  of  us.  But 
the  Transcontinental  Company  is  a  heavy  buyer 
—lumber  and  cross-ties  and  bridge  timber,  you 
know — and  the  biggest  part  of  the  difference  be 
tween  our  special  and  the  regular  rate  is  taken  up 
in  our  bills  for  material  furnished  to  the  railroad." 

"Let  me  be  quite  clear  upon  that  point,"  said 
Blount;  and  if  Hathaway  had  had  eyes  to  see,  he 
would  have  observed  that  the  young  lawyer's  atti 
tude  was  becoming  more  judicial  with  every  fresh 


THE  GREAT  GAME  157 

questioning.  "Let  me  be  quite  sure  that  I  under 
stand.  You  mean  that  you  are  allowed  to  charge 
the  railroad  company  more  than  the  market  price 
on  the  material  it  buys?" 

Hathaway  nodded.     "Yes,  that's  the  way  of  it." 

"And  this  preferential  rate  is  still  in  force?" 

"It  is." 

"You're  sure  you  have  had  no  notice  of  its  with 
drawal — say  within  the  past  few  weeks?" 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  lumber  lord  began 
to  fear  that  some  one  had  slipped  a  cog  in  sending 
him  to  first  one  and  then  another,  and  finally  to 
young  Blount. 

"Of  course,  it  hasn't  been  withdrawn!"  he  re 
torted.  And  then:  "You  seem  to  think  there  is 
something  of!  color  in  the  deal,  Mr.  Blount,  and  I 
don't  know  whether  you're  stringing  me  or  whether 
you're  too  new  in  the  railroad  game  to  have  the 
dope.  If  you're  going  into  this  political  knock- 
down-and-drag-out,  you  ought  to  have  the  dope. 
There  isn't  a  big  interest  in  this  State — ore-shippers, 
power  people,  irrigation  companies,  or  any  of  'em— 
that  ain't  getting  a  rake-off.  I  guess  you  are  string 
ing  me;  I  guess  you  know  all  this  a  good  deal  better 
than  I  do.  If  you  don't,  I  can  tell  you  that  it's  a 
fact;  not  a  'has-been',  but  an  'is'!  Ask  Gantry; 
he'll  tell  you,  if  he  tells  the  truth.  We  ain't  asking 
or  getting  anything  that  other  people  ain't  getting!" 

"I  see,"  said  Blount  soberly.  "What  do  you  ex 
pect  me  to  do,  Mr.  Hathaway?" 

"I  want  you  to  set  the  wheels  in  motion  so  that 


158    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

we  can  have  our  rate  made  good  for  another  two 
years — on  the  same  terms  as  before.  You're  going 
to  need  every  vote  you  can  get  this  year,  and  you 
can't  afford  to  turn  us  down."  Then  the  lumber- 
king  shifted  again  to  his  own  necessities.  "It's  the 
only  way  we  can  live  and  do  business  nowadays. 
Like  every  other  large  corporation,  we've  got  an 
army  of  little  investors  to  look  out  for:  widows, 
orphans,  charitable  institutions,  and  trustees'  ac 
counts.  I've  got  a  list  of  our  stockholders  right 
here,  and  I'd  like  to  have  you  look  it  over." 

Blount  took  the  paper  mechanically,  and  quite 
as  mechanically  ran  his  eye  down  the  list  of  names. 
At  the  bottom  of  it,  written  in  with  a  pen,  was  the 
name  of  Patricia's  father,  with  his  residence  and  oc 
cupation.  While  he  was  staring  at  the  pen-written 
name,  Hathaway  went  on,  eloquently  emphasizing 
the  disastrous  results  which  would  fall  upon  the  peo 
ple  for  whom  he  was,  in  the  larger  sense,  a  guard 
ian  and  a  trustee — the  disaster  hinging  upon  the 
withdrawal  of  the  preferential  rate. 

Blount  broke  him  abruptly  in  the  midst  of  the 
special  plea.  "I  see  you  have  recently  added  one 
new  name  to  this  list:  the  name  of  Professor  Anners. 
How- 

"Yes,"  interrupted  the  Twin  Buttes  diplomatist 
hastily,  fearing  that  this  legal-minded  young  man 
would  presently  be  asking  questions  too  hard  to  be 
answered;  "now  there's  a  case  in  point:  Mr.  Anners 
is  a  good  example  of  our  smaller  stockholders.  Men 
like  Anners,  college  professors,  preachers,  and  so  on, 


THE  GREAT  GAME  159 

buy  stocks,  when  they  buy  'em  at  all,  for  an  invest 
ment — for  the  income — and  they  pay  for  'em  out 
of  their  hard-earned  savings." 

"I  know,"  said  Blount,  and,  since  he  was  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  be  diverted  from  his  purpose 
by  any  conversational  dust-throwing,  he  pressed 
the  question  cut  off  by  the  hasty  interruption. 
"What  I  was  going  to  ask  was  how  you  happen 
to  have  added  Professor  Anners's  name  to  your 
list — recently,  it  seems?" 

The  lumberman  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
inventing  a  ready  lie.  He  had  obeyed  his  instruc 
tions  blindly,  on  the  supposition  that  young  Blount 
would  know  and  understand. 

"Anners?  Oh,  he  knows  a  good  thing  when  he 
sees  it;  and  I  guess  maybe  your  father  put  him  on. 
He's  a  friend  of  the  family,  ain't  he?  Maybe  the 
senator  found  a  little  chunk  of  'Twin  Buttes'  that 
he  didn't  want  himself,  and  passed  it  along." 

Blount's  blood  ran  cold  at  the  sight  of  the  crack 
ing  walls  and  crumbling  foundations  on  every  hand. 
The  proof  that  the  railroad  company's  lawless  atti 
tude  was  still  unchanged  was  too  strong  to  be 
doubted;  and  now  there  was  an  added  blow  from 
the  hand  of  his  father.  He  wheeled  short  upon  the 
lumber-king. 

"Who  sent  you  to  me,  Mr.  Hathaway?"  he  de 
manded. 

The  hawk-faced  man  laughed.  "I  guess  you 
know  just  as  well  or  better  than  I  do.  But  just 
to  show  you  that  I  can  keep  my  mouth  shut,  I  ain't 


160    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

going  to  tell  you.  It's  all  right  and  straight — and 
you  might  say  it's  all  in  the  family,  counting  the 
professor  in  on  the  side,  as  it  were." 

"I  see,"  Blount  said,  and  this  time  he  was  only 
too  sure  that  he  did  see.  Then:  "What  is  it  you 
want  me  to  do  for  you,  Mr.  Hathaway?  You  have 
told  me  once,  but  I'm  afraid  I  didn't  grasp  it  fully." 

"Fix  it  with  Gantry,  or  somebody,  so  that  we  can 
put  the  company  vote  where  it's  most  needed  and 
get  our  rate  continued.  It's  simple  enough." 

"The  simplicity  is  beyond  question."  Blount  re 
turned  the  list  of  stockholders  and  fell  back  upon 
the  pencil-sharpening.  "It  is  quite  elementary,  as 
you  say;  but  there  is  another  phase  of  the  trans 
action  which  seems  to  have  escaped  you.  Are  you 
aware  that  the  present  arrangement  which  you  have 
so  accurately  described,  and  the  continuance  of  it 
which  you  are  proposing,  are  crimes  for  which  both 
parties  involved  may  be  called  into  court  and  pun 
ished?" 

Hathaway  started  as  if  the  comfortable  chair  in 
which  he  was  lounging  had  been  suddenly  electrified. 

"Say,  Blount,  are  you  working  for  the  railroad, 
or  not?"  he  demanded.  "If  you  are,  what  in  the 
name  of  Heaven  are  you  driving  at?  I  know  the 
line  of  talk  you've  been  handing  out  since  McVickar 
gave  you  your  job  and  set  you  up  in  business  here, 
but  that's  for  the  dear  public.  You  don't  have  to 
wear  your  halo  when  a  man  comes  in  to  talk  hard 
facts  from  the  inside.  It  comes  to  just  this:  you 
do  something  for  me,  and  I  do  something  for  you. 


THE  GREAT  GAME  161 

You  make  it  possible  for  us  to  live  and  sell  lumber, 
and  we  do  what  we  can  to  make  it  easy  for  your 
railroad  to  get  its  ' square  deal'  from  a  pie-cutting 
legislature.  That's  the  whole  thing  in  a  nut 
shell." 

"One  more  question,"  snapped  Blount,  striving  to 
fix  the  roving  gaze  of  the  hawk-like  eyes.  "With 
whom  did  you  make  this  arrangement  two  years 
ago?" 

"With  your  boss,  if  you  want  to  know;  with  Mr. 
McVickar  himself!" 

"And  you  think  you  can  do  it  again?" 

"I  know  damned  well  I  can;  only  I  don't  care 
to  go  over  your  head  unless  I  have  to.  They  tell 
me  you're  handling  this  end  of  it  for  the  railroad 
company,  and  I'm  not  going  around  hunting  a 
chance  to  make  enemies.  That's  all  I've  got  to 
say" — and  he  rose  to  go — "all  but  this:  you've  got 
a  lot  to  learn  about  this  something-for-something 
business,  and  the  quicker  you  get  at  it,  Mr.  Blount, 
the  sooner  you'll  arrive  somewhere.  About  this 
little  matter  of  ours,  there's  no  special  hurry.  Take 
your  own  time  to  think  it  over;  take  it  up  with 
McVickar,  if  you  want  to.  Then,  when  you  get 
things  fixed,  wire  me  one  word  to  Twin  Buttes. 
Just  say  'Yes,'  and  sign  your  name  to  it.  That'll 
be  enough." 

For  a  long  half-hour  after  the  president  of  the 
Twin  Buttes  Lumber  Company  and  its  allied  cor 
porations  had  closed  the  door  of  the  private  office 
behind  him,  Blount  sat  rocking  gently  in  his  pivot- 


162    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

chair.  In  the  fulness  of  time  the  bitter  thoughts 
wrought  their  way  into  words. 

"So  this  is  what  I  was  hired  for!"  he  mused,  "a 
fence;  a  wretched  mask  put  up  to  hide  the  trick 
ery  and  chicanery  and  criminality — the  crookedness 
which  has  never  been  put  aside;  which  nobody 
ever  meant  to  put  aside!  My  God!  they've  let  me 
stultify  myself  in  a  thousand  ways;  let  me  sit  here 
day  after  day  with  a  lie  in  my  mouth,  saying  things 
that  nobody  in  this  God-forsaken  homeland  of  mine 
has  believed  for  a  single  minute !  After  it's  all  over, 
every  man  who  has  listened  to  me  will  say  that  I 
knew — that  all  this  talk  about  openness  and  fair 
dealing  was  simply  that  much  dust-throwing  to 
hide  the  workings  of  a  corrupt  and  criminal  machine 
grinding  away  in  the  background!" 

He  turned  to  his  desk  and  sat  with  his  head  propped 
in  his  hands,  staring  at  the  little  photograph  of  War- 
trace  Hall  which  he  had  had  mounted  in  a  plate- 
glass  paper-weight.  The  sight  gave  an  added  twist 
to  the  torture  screw  and  he  broke  out  again. 

"I've  been  nothing  more  than  a  bit  of  potter's 
clay,  and  the  master  potter — God  help  me! — is  my 
own  father!  It's  all  plain  enough  now.  He  saw 
that  I  wasn't  going  to  fall  in  with  the  attorney- 
general  scheme;  or  perhaps  he  saw  that  I  might 
be  a  stumbling-block  if  I  should;  so  he  planned 
this  thing  with  McVickar — planned  it  deliberately! 
There  is  no  fight,  after  all;  it's  merely  one  of  the 
moves  in  the  game  that  the  'boss'  and  the  railroad 
should  seem  to  be  fighting  each  other.  Good  God! 


THE  GREAT  GAME  163 

I  can't  believe  it,  and  yet  I've  got  to  believe  it. 
That  man  Hathaway  is  a  self-confessed  criminal, 
but  he  was  telling  the  truth  about  the  law-breaking 
trickery  that  is  going  on;  he  wouldn't  be  idiotic 
enough  to  lie  and  then  give  me  a  chance  to  prove 
the  lie.  And  he  didn't  come  to  me  of  his  own  voli 
tion;  he  was  sent — sent  to  break  me  down,  and  sent 
by  ...  Oh,  dad,  dad!  how  could  you  do  it!" 

With  his  face  hidden  in  the  crook  of  his  arm,  he 
was  groping  in  vain  outreachings  for  something  to 
lay  hold  of,  for  some  clear-minded,  clean-hearted 
adviser  who  could  tell  him  what  to  do;  how  he 
should  clamber  out  of  this  pit  of  humiliation  into 
which  nothing  more  culpable  than  an  honest  zeal 
for  civic  righteousness  had  precipitated  him.  In  his 
despair  he  told  himself  that  there  was  no  one,  and 
then  suddenly  he  remembered — Patricia  would  know, 
and  she  would  understand  better  than  any  one  else 
in  a  populous  world  how  to  point  the  way  out  of  the 
labyrinth.  He  must  go  to  her  and  tell  her.  In 
the  meantime.  .  .  . 

He  got  up  and  shut  his  desk  with  a  slam.  In  the 
meantime  there  should  be  no  more  lies  told — no 
more  turns  taken  in  the  crooked  path.  Collins,  the 
stenographer,  heard  the  noise  of  the  desk  closing 
and  came  to  the  door  of  the  private  room,  note 
book  and  pencil  in  hand.  "Anything  to  give  me 
before  you  go  out?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Blount  almost  savagely.  "Take  a 
message  to  Mr.  McVickar.  Are  you  ready?" 

The  stenographer  nodded. 


1 64    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Blount  dictated  curtly:  "  'Pending  another  inter 
view  with  you  in  person,  I  shall  close  my  offices  in 
Temple  Court  and  confine  myself  strictly  to  the 
routine  legal  business  of  the  company.  Meanwhile, 
my  resignation  is  in  your  hands  if  you  wish  to  ap 
point  a  new  division  counsel.'  Have  you  got  that, 
Collins?  Very  well;  write  it  out  and  send  it  at 
once.  I  shall  be  at  the  Inter-Mountain  for  a  little 
while,  if  you  want  to  reach  me  between  now  and 
closing  time." 


XII 

A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT 

GOING  to  the  hotel,  Blount  shut  himself  into  a 
telephone  booth  and  tried,  ineffectually,  to  get  a 
long-distance  connection  with  Wartrace  Hall.  When 
he  finally  grew  exasperated  at  the  central  operator's 
oft-repeated  "  line's  busy,"  he  called  up  Gantry  to 
ask  if  the  traffic  manager  knew  anything  about  the 
purposes  and  movements  of  his  father.  Gantry  did 
not  know,  but  he  knew  something  else — a  thing 
which  proved  the  leakiness  of  the  railroad  telegraph 
department. 

"Come  down  here  and  tell  me  what  you  mean  by 
sending  incendiary  telegrams  to  the  vice-president," 
he  commanded,  with  jesting  severity.  And  with  a 
hard  word  for  the  department  which  had  gossiped, 
Blount  went  down  to  the  general  offices  in  the  sta 
tion  building. 

Gantry  was  busy  with  the  stenographer,  but  the 
business  was  immediately  postponed  and  the  clerk 
dismissed  when  Blount  entered. 

"'Tell  it  out  among  the  heathen,'"  the  traffic 
manager  quoted  jocosely,  when  the  door  closed  be 
hind  the  shorthand  man. 

165 


1 66    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"There  is  nothing  to  tell — more  than  you  seem 
to  know  already,"  snapped  Blount  morosely.  "I 
have  wired  my  resignation,  that's  all." 

"But  why?"  persisted  Gantry. 

"Because  I'm  not  going  to  be  an  accessory,  either 
before  or  after  the  fact — not  if  I  know  it,"  was  the 
curt  rejoinder. 

"An  accessory  to  what?" 

"To  the  criminal  disregard  for  the  laws  of  this 
State  and  the  nation  which  seems  to  be  the  underlying 
motive  actuating  every  move  in  this  corrupt  game 
of  politics.  Gantry,  if  you  and  some  others  had 
your  just  deserts,  you  would  be  breaking  stone  in 
the  penitentiary  this  blessed  minute!" 

"Suffering  Moses!"  gasped  the  traffic  manager. 
"Somebody  must  have  been  hitting  you  pretty 
hard.  Who  was  it;  some  more  of  the  'little  broth 
ers'?'' 

At  another  time  Blount  might  have  been  less 
angry,  and,  by  consequence,  more  discreet. 

"No,  it  wasn't  any  of  the  'little  brothers';  it  was 
Mr.  Simon  P.  Hathaway,  president  of  the  Twin 
Buttes  Lumber  Company." 

Gantry  drew  a  long  breath  which  ended  in  a  low 
whistle. 

"So  that's  what  you  were  let  in  for,  was  it?"  he 
exclaimed,  and  then  he  checked  himself  abruptly 
and  went  back  to  the  original  contention.  "But 
you're  not  going  to  throw  down  your  tools  and  walk 
out,  Evan.  You  can't  afford  to  do  that." 

"Why  can't  I?" 


A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT        167 

"Because  you  have  committed  yourself  right  and 
left.  No  man  can  afford  to  drop  out  of  the  ranks 
on  the  eve  of  a  battle.  You  are  not  stopping  to 
consider  the  construction  which  will  be  put  upon 
any  such  hasty  action  on  your  part." 

"I  am  not  stopping  to  consider  anything,  Dick, 
save  the  fact  that  I  was  evidently  expected  to  con 
nive  at  a  cynical  and  criminal  disregard  for  the  law 
of  the  land,  the  law  which,  as  a  member  of  the  bar, 
I  have  sworn  to  uphold  and  defend.  That  is  enough 
for  me.  I  don't  have  to  be  knocked  down  and  run 
over  before  I  can  realize  that  it's  time  to  get  out  of 
the  way." 

"You  say  it's  enough  for  you;  it  won't  be  enough 
for  Mr.  McVickar,"  Gantry  interposed.  "If  you 
could  afford  to  drop  out — and  I'm  not  admitting  that 
you  can — he  couldn't  afford  to  let  you."  Then,  with 
sudden  gravity:  "Hadn't  you  better  let  me  hold  up 
that  telegram  of  yours  for  a  few  hours,  Evan,  until 
you've  had  time  to  cool  down  and  think  it  over?" 

Blount  sprang  from  his  chair  in  a  white  heat. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  are  already 
holding  it  up?"  he  demanded. 

"I  took  the  liberty  of  holding  it  up — tempora 
rily,"  confessed  the  traffic  man  coolly.  "There  is  no 
harm  done.  Mr.  McVickar  is  on  his  way  West  now, 
and  he  will  be  here  in  a  day  or  two.  Why  not  kill 
the  message  and  have  it  out  with  him  in  person 
when  he  comes?" 

Blount  was  not  to  be  so  easily  appeased. 

"I    won't   have   my    communications    tampered 


1 68    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

with!"  he  exploded.  "If  you  have  given  an  order 
to  have  that  telegram  held  out,  you  can  give  another 
to  have  it  sent  immediately!" 

"All  right,"  said  Gantry;  "just  as  you  say."  And 
he  made  no  effort  to  detain  the  enraged  one  who  was 
turning  his  back  and  striding  away.  But  after  the 
self-discharged  political  manager  was  gone,  the  traffic 
man  chuckled  quietly  and  turned  up  a  square  of 
paper  which  had  been  lying  on  his  desk  during  the 
short  and  belligerent  interview. 

"It's  a  nice  lay-out,"  he  mused,  reading  the 
type- written  lines  over  again,  "but  the  little  lady 
was  too  fly  for  you  this  time,  Evan,  my  boy.  She 
was  just  prophetess  enough  to  guess  where  and  how 
you  would  go  off  the  handle,  clever  enough  to  pass 
me  the  word  to  watch  the  wires  after  a  certain  train 
should  get  in  from  Ophir  to-day.  Great  little  woman, 
that.  I  believe  she  figures  out  more  than  half  of 
the  fine  moves  in  the  Honorable  Senator's  game, 
though  this  particularly  fine  move  of  sending  Hath 
away  to  touch  a  match  to  Evan's  little  powder-keg 
is  one  that  I  don't  begin  to  understand."  And  he 
folded  the  telegram  and  carefully  put  it  away  in  his 
pocket-book. 

Evan  Blount  walked  three  squares  beyond  the 
Inter-Mountain  Hotel  before  he  had  cooled  down 
sufficiently  to  determine  what  to  do  next.  As  it 
chanced,  the  cooling-down  process  had  led  him  to 
the  door  of  the  public  garage  patronized  by  his 
father.  That  thought  of  flying  to  Patricia  for  coun 
sel  and  comfort  was  still  with  him,  but  it  was  over- 


A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT        169 

shadowed  by  a  more  militant  desire  to  fight  some 
body;  to  go  to  his  father  and  tell  him  how  com 
pletely  and  successfully  he  had  plotted  with  the  vice- 
president  to  humiliate  a  son  whose  only  offence  was  a 
decent  regard  for  honor  and  uprightness. 

Acting  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  he  went 
in  and  asked  if  any  of  Senator  Blount's  cars  were 
in  the  city.  There  was  one — the  big  roadster;  and 
Blount's  decision  was  taken  instantly.  On  that  first 
day  at  Wartrace  Hall  his  father  had  tried  to  give 
him  one  of  the  three  motor-cars  outright,  and  when 
he  had  refused  to  take  it  as  a  gift,  a  compromise  had 
been  made  by  which  he  was  under  promise  to  use 
any  one  of  the  machines  he  could  get  hold  of  when 
the  need  arose.  Accordingly,  a  few  minutes  later 
he  was  behind  the  steering-wheel  of  the  fast  road 
ster,  picking  his  way  through  the  traffic-burdened 
city  streets  and  pointing  straight  for  the  country 
road  leading  north  to  the  sage-brush  hills. 

Now,  among  its  many  attractions,  motoring  num 
bers — from  the  driver's  point  of  view — this:  that 
it  effectually  sweeps  the  brain  of  all  other  cares  and 
distractions,  sundry  and  several,  since  one  may  not 
drive  a  high-powered  car  at  speed  and  success 
fully  think  of  anything  but  the  driving.  Blount 
reached  the  entrance  to  the  cottonwood-shaded  av 
enue  at  Wartrace  Hall  just  before  the  dinner  hour; 
and  he  was  so  far  recovered  from  the  attack  of  right 
eous  indignation  that  he  was  able  to  meet  his  father 
and  the  others  with  a  fair  degree  of  equanimity.  In 
the  back  part  of  his  mind,  however,  he  held  the 


170    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

fighting  ultimatum  in  suspense.  In  the  course  of 
the  evening  he  would  make  his  opportunity  and  have 
it  out,  once  for  all,  with  the  master  potter.  So 
much  he  determined  while  he  was  dressing  for  din 
ner.  But  the  course  of  events  is  sometimes  a  most 
unmalleable  thing,  as  he  was  presently  to  learn. 

At  the  dinner-table  it  was  the  professor  who 
monopolized  the  conversation,  holding  forth  learn 
edly  and  dictatorially  upon  matters  pertaining  solely 
to  the  Pliocene  age,  and  never  once  suffering  the 
talk  to  approach  nearer  than  several  million  years 
to  the  twentieth  century.  And  at  the  dispersal — 
only  there  was  no  dispersal — the  senator  took  his 
turn,  leading  the  way  to  the  great  wainscoted  liv 
ing-room  and  persuading  Patricia  to  go  to  the  piano. 

The  young  man  with  the  fighting  determination 
in  the  back  part  of  his  brain  bided  his  time.  He 
was  willing  enough  to  listen  to  Grieg  and  Brahms 
as  they  were  interpreted  by  Patricia,  but  the  greater 
matter  was  still  outweighing  the  lesser.  Further 
along,  when  Miss  Aimers  had  played  herself  out, 
Blount  tried  to  break  the  obstructing  combination. 
But,  in  spite  of  his  efforts,  the  talk  drifted  back  to 
the  dinosaurs  and  the  pterodactyls,  and  when  he 
finally  went  away  to  smoke,  he  did  it  alone. 

The  Wartrace  Hall  den  was  an  annex  to  the  liv 
ing-room,  and  through  the  bamboo  portieres  he  could 
hear  the  animated  hum  of  the  prehistoric  discussion, 
in  which  Patricia  had  now  joined  as  a  loyal  daugh 
ter  should.  Hoping  against  hope  that  the  professor 
would  some  time  go  to  bed,  and  that  his  father  would 


A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT        171 

come  to  the  den  for  his  bedtime  whiff  at  the  long- 
stemmed  pipe,  Blount  smoked  and  waited.  But 
when  his  patience  was  finally  rewarded,  it  was  not 
the  Honorable  Senator  who  drew  the  bamboo  por 
tieres  aside  and  entered  the  cosey  smoking-room.  It 
was  Patricia,  and  she  was  alone. 

"I  thought  perhaps  I  should  find  you  here,"  she 
said,  taking  the  easy  chair  at  the  opposite  corner 
of  the  fireplace  where  a  tiny  wood  fire  was  blazing 
in  deference  to  the  chill  of  the  approaching  autumn. 
"Did  we  bore  you  to  death  with  the  Pliocenes?" 

"Not  quite,"  he  admitted  grudgingly.  "But 
since  I  hadn't  remembered  to  have  myself  born  six 
or  seven  million  years  ago,  I  can't  somehow  seem  to 
galvanize  a  very  active  interest  in  the  dead-and- 
gone  periods." 

"Nor  I,"  she  confessed  frankly,  "though  for 
daddy's  sake  I  do  try  to.  But  for  us  who  are 
living  to-day  there  are  so  many  problems  of  crit 
ically  vital  importance — problems  that  the  ptero 
dactyls  never  knew  anything  about." 

"I  know,"  returned  the  young  man,  half -absently. 
"I  am  up  against  one  of  them,  right  now,  and  I  don't 
know  how  to  solve  it." 

"Will  it  bear  telling?"  she  asked,  and  he  hoped 
that  the  sympathy  in  her  tone  was  personal  rather 
than  conventional. 

"It  will  not  only  bear  telling;  it  demands  to  be 
told  to  some  one  whose  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
has  not  been  drawn  and  quartered  and  flayed  alive 
until  it  has  no  longer  life  or  breath  left  with  which 


172    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

to  protest,"  and  thereupon  he  told  her  circum 
stantially  all  that  had  befallen  him  since  the  event 
ful  evening  on  which  he  had  forsaken  the  wrecked 
train  at  Twin  Buttes,  concluding  with  the  story  of 
the  lumber  magnate's  attempt  at  corruption,  of 
which  he  suppressed  nothing  but  the  fact  that  her 
father's  name  appeared  in  Mr.  Ha tha way's  list  of 
share-holders.  When  he  had  made  an  end,  her  eyes 
were  shining,  though  whether  with  quickened  sym 
pathy  or  indignation  he  could  not  determine. 

"What  did  you  do?"  she  asked,  referring  to  the 
incident  of  the  afternoon. 

"I  didn't  do  half  enough!"  he  fumed.  "I'm 
afraid  I  let  Hathaway  escape  without  being  told 
plainly  enough  what  a  hopelessly  irreclaimable 
scoundrel  he  is.  When  he  edged  out  of  the  door, 
he  was  still  telling  me  to  take  my  time  to  think  it 
over,  and  was  indicating  the  way  in  which  I  might 
communicate  my  consent  without  committing  any 
body.  I  made  a  mistake  in  not  firing  him  bodily!" 

Miss  Anners  was  tapping  one  daintily  shod  foot 
on  the  tiled  hearth. 

"You  made  your  greatest  mistake  in  the  very 
beginning,  Evan,"  she  said  decisively.  "You  should 
have  made  a  confidant  of  your  father." 

"I  did  try  to,"  he  protested.  "Everything  was 
all  right  until  this  political  business  came  up  be 
tween  us.  But  that  opened  the  rift.  I  couldn't 
do  as  he  wanted  me  to,  and  my  sympathies  were 
with  the  corporations  which  I  thought  he  was  fight 
ing  unjustly.  So  when  Mr.  McVickar  made  me  an 


A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT        173 

offer,  I  accepted  in  good  faith,  believing  that  I  could 
really  do  something  toward  bringing  about  a  better 
understanding.", 

"And  now  you  believe  you  can't? — that  it  is  im 
possible?" 

"Not  wholly  impossible,  I  suppose.  But  the ' great 
game'  seems  to  be  everything  in  this  benighted  com 
monwealth,  and  everybody  plays  it — my  father, 
his  wife,  the  railroad  officials,  and  the  politicians. 
Surely  you  wouldn't  say  that  I  should  have  let  fa 
ther  put  me  on  the  State  ticket  as  a  candidate, 
knowing — as  I  could  not  help  knowing — that  I  would 
be  expected  to  carry  out  the  designs  of  the  machine 
regardless  of  right  and  wrong?" 

"Certainly  not,"  was  the  quick  reply,  "not  if  you 
were  convinced  that  the  motive — your  father's  mo 
tive — was  unworthy.  But  if  you  have  been  telling 
me  the  truth,  and  all  the  truth,  I  should  say  that 
you  didn't  stop  to  inquire  what  his  motive  was." 

"What  was  the  use  of  inquiring?"  he  demanded 
moodily.  "He  is  the  boss,  and  he  would  have  used 
the  machine  to  put  me  into  office  as  attorney-general. 
In  other  words,  I  should  have  owed  my  election, 
not  to  the  will  and  selection  of  the  people,  but  to 
the  will  of  one  man,  and  that  man  my  nearest  kins 
man;  a  man  who  is,  beyond  all  question  of  doubt, 
working  hand  in  glove  with  all  the  trickery  and 
double-dealing  practised  by  the  corporations.  Un 
der  such  conditions,  would  it  have  been  possible 
for  me  to  accept  and  to  administer  the  office  with 
out  fear  or  favor?" 


174    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I  don't  know  why  not/'  she  returned.  "Not 
withstanding  your  charge — which  merely  shows  how 
angry  you  are — your  l  nearest  kinsman, '  as  you  call 
him,  would  have  been  the  last  man  in  the  world  to 
interfere.  Wasn't  that  the  very  reason  he  gave 
you  for  wanting  to  put  you  on  the  ticket?" 

"I  know,"  said  Blount,  whose  mind  was  begin 
ning  to  cloud  again.  "But  there  are  so  many  other 
mysteries.  We'll  say  that  my  father  honestly 
wanted  me  to  stand  for  the  candidacy.  But  right 
in  the  midst  of  things  he  conspires  with  Mr.  Mc- 
Vickar  to  put  me  into  my  present  unspeakable  di 
lemma." 

Her  smile  was  gently  reproachful. 

"It  is  my  poor  opinion,  Evan,  that  you  don't  half 
appreciate  your  father.  Worse  than  that,  you  don't 
know  him.  But  that  is  beside  the  present  mark. 
What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"I  have  already  done  it.  I  have  wired  my  res 
ignation  to  Mr.  McVickar,  and  he  will  doubtless 
accept  it." 

She  was  looking  him  fairly  in  the  eyes.  "That 
is  the  second  unwise  thing  you  have  done,"  she  re 
marked.  And  then:  "Evan,  there  are  times  when 
you  are  sadly  in  need  of  a  balance-wheel.  Don't 
you  know  that?" 

"I  knew  it  a  good  while  ago.  I  applied  for  one 
once,  and  it  was  refused  when  you  said  'No'." 

For  one  who  was  supposed  to  be  far  above  and 
beyond  such  emotional  signallings,  she  blushed  very 
prettily.  Which  merely  proves  that  one  may  be  a 


A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT        175 

diplomaed  sociologist  with  a  burning  zeal  for  alle 
viating  the  miseries  of  a  sodden  world,  without  hav 
ing  parted  with  the  primitive  sex  impulse. 

"I  am  willing  to  try  to  help  you  now/'  she  said, 
half  hesitating;  "if  only  you  won't  try  to  drag  me 
over  into  the  field  of  sentiment.  It  was  just  a  bit 
of  boyish  rage — fine  enough  in  its  way,  but  foolish— 
your  sending  that  telegram  to  Mr.  McVickar.  Can't 
you  recall  it?" 

"No;  not  now." 

"Then  you  must  do  the  next  best  thing:  tell  him 
you  have  reconsidered." 

"But  I  haven't  reconsidered;  I  can't  and  won't 
stand  in  with  the  corruption  and  bribery  that  is  go 
ing  on  all  around  me!"  he  objected  indignantly. 

"Of  course  you  can't;  and  you  mustn't.  But 
the  true  reformer  doesn't  drop  things  and  run  away. 
You  must  stay  in  and  fight — fight  harder  than  you 
ever  have  before,  Evan.  If  you  can't  do  it  for  the 
sake  of  the  larger  right,  then  you  must  do  it  for  your 
own  sake.  Can't  you  see  the  open  door  before  you?  " 

"I  can  see  and  hear  and  feel  when  the  door  is 
slammed  in  my  face,"  was  the  qualifying  rejoinder. 
"How  can  I  go  on  preaching  the  gospel  of  clean 
ness  and  fair  dealing,  when  I  know  that  all  this 
crooked  work  is  going  on  behind  my  back?  What 
will  the  people  of  this  State  say  to  me  and  about 
me  when  the  crookedness  comes  to  light?" 

"Ah!"  she  said;  "that  is  just  where  you  begin 
to  grow  one-sided.  You  must  go  on  preaching  the 
gospel,  but  that  is  only  half  of  the  battle.  The  other 


176    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

half  is  to  be  big  enough  and  strong  enough  and  in 
sistent  enough  to  make  the  thing  itself  agree  with 
the  gospel.  I  fully  believe  you  lost  your  best  helper 
when  you  refused  to  join  hands  with  your  father. 
You  don't  believe  that,  so  well  let  it  go.  You  have 
gone  your  own  way,  choosing  what  seemed  to  you 
to  be  the  better  opportunity.  Evan,  you  can't  turn 
back;  youVe  simply  got  to  go  on  and  wring  success 
out  of  apparent  failure!" 

Blount  drew  a  deep  breath  and  sat  up  in  his  chair. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  light  in  Patricia's  eyes 
now;  the  pure  flame  of  which  it  was  the  visible 
radiance  is  the  torch  which  has  kindled  the  beacon 
fires  on  all  the  heights  since  the  world  began. 

"HI  had  only  my  own  people — the  railroad  people 
—to  knock  down  and  drag  out,"  he  was  beginning, 
but  she  broke  in  warmly: 

"You  think  you  have  your  father  against  you, 
too;  I  don't  believe  it,  but  you  do.  Very  well;  then 
you  must  compel  him,  as  well  as  the  others.  Be  a 
big  man,  Evan;  be  the  biggest  man  in  the  State 
until  you  have  proved  that  one  man  with  a  right 
eous  cause  is  better  than  ten  thousand  without  it. " 

Blount  got  up  and  stood  with  his  back  to  the 
dying  embers  of  the  tiny  fire,  and  if  he  put  his 
hands  behind  him  it  was  because  the  passionate 
impulse  to  break  down  all  the  barriers  was  twitch 
ing  in  every  fibre  of  him. 

"Patricia,  girl,  I  wonder  if  you  know  what  you 
have  done  to  me?  I  drove  out  here  this  evening 
utterly  discouraged  and  disheartened;  bitter  and 


A  WELL-SPRING  IN  THE  DESERT        177 

angry,  and  ready  to  throw  the  whole  thing  up  and 
go  away.  You've  changed  all  that — you,  you  know; 
just  you.  Oh,  girl,  girl!  if  I  could  only  have  you 
beside  me  to  give  me  my  battle- word!" 

She  had  her  slender  fingers  locked  over  one  knee 
and  her  eyes  were  downcast. 

"Now  you  are  tempting  me,"  she  said  slowly; 
"and — and  it  isn't  fair.  You  know  my  weakness 
and  passion  to  help.  You  mustn't  tempt  me,  Evan." 

What  he  would  have  said,  with  what  eager  plead 
ings  he  would  have  pressed  the  advantage  gained 
by  his  appeal  for  the  larger  help,  is  not  to  be  here 
set  down.  For  at  that  moment  the  bamboo  door 
curtains  parted  to  admit  the  small  house-mistress. 

"You  two!"  she  scolded  with  light-hearted  aus 
terity.  And  then  to  Evan:  "Don't  you  know  that 
we  are  keeping  country  hours  here  at  Wartrace 
now?  The  professor  will  be  up  and  calling  for  the 
car  at  six  o'clock,  and  it's  past  midnight.  Shame 
on  you!  Run  away  and  get  your  beauty  sleep — 
both  of  you!" 


XIII 

THE  LIEGEMAN 

EVAN  BLOUNT  drove  himself  back  to  the  capital 
in  the  swift  roadster  the  following  morning,  and 
there  was  no  opportunity  for  further  confidential 
speech  with  Patricia  before  he  left.  But  with  the 
new  day  had  arisen,  full-grown,  the  determination 
born  in  the  moment  of  midnight  heart-warming  and 
inspiration.  To  the  best  of  his  ability  he  would 
live  up  to  the  high  standard  set  for  him  by  the 
woman  he  loved,  not  only  preaching  the  gospel  of 
fair  dealing,  but  doing  his  utmost  to  make  it  ef 
fective. 

With  this  high  purpose  singing  its  song  of  exalta 
tion  in  his  veins,  he  drove  on  past  the  garage  and 
made  an  early  call  at  the  office  of  the  traffic  man 
ager.  Gantry  was  in  the  midst  of  his  morning  mail- 
opening,  but  he  pushed  the  desk-load  of  papers  aside 
when  the  door  swung  inward  to  admit  the  early 
visitor. 

"Hello,  old  man!  Come  back  to  jar  me  some 
more  about  that  telegram?"  was  his  greeting. 

Blount  shook  his  head.  "No;  if  youVe  sent  it, 
well  and  good.  If  you  haven't,  you  may  pitch  it 

178 


THE  LIEGEMAN  179 

into  the  waste-basket.  I  came  to  talk  about  some 
thing  else." 

"Good,  sound,  sensible  second  thought!"  Gan 
try  commented,  laughing.  Then  he  took  out  his 
pocket-book  and  passed  the  suppressed  telegram 
across  to  Blount.  "Here  it  is;  you  can  do  the 
waste-basket  act  yourself.  I  couldn't  let  you  com 
mit  hara-kiri  without  at  least  trying  to  get  the  cut 
ting  tool  out  of  your  hands.  What  is  the  other 
thing  youVe  got  on  your  mind  this  early  in  the 
morning?  It  must  be  a  nightmare  of  some  sort,  by 
the  look  in  your  eyes." 

"It  may  figure  as  a  nightmare  to  you,  Dick,  be 
fore  we're  through  with  it.  I'll  make  it  short.  You 
know  what  I  have  been  doing — what  I  supposed  I 
was  hired  to  do — assuring  everybody  right  and  left 
that  we  were  going  into  this  campaign  with  clean 
hands?" 

"I  know,"  admitted  the  traffic  manager,  devel 
oping  a  sudden  interest  in  the  figures  of  the  rug  at 
his  feet. 

"I  have  been  doing  this  in  a  business  way  at  my 
office  up-town,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  and  night 
before  last,  at  Ophir,  I  did  it  publicly.  As  the  cam 
paign  progresses,  I  shall  doubtless  put  myself  on 
record  many  times  to  the  same  effect." 

"Good  man!"  applauded  Gantry,  striving  to  drag 
the  talk  down  to  some  less  portentous  altitude. 
"I'm  sure  we  need  all  the  whitewashing  anybody 
can  give  us." 

"That  is  just  the  point  I  have  come  to  make," 


i8o    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Blount  went  on  gravely.  "It  mustn't  be  merely  a 
coat  of  whitewash,  Dick;  it  has  got  to  be  the  real 
thing,  this  time.  I  began  by  firing  the  '  little 
brothers/  as  you  called  them,  but  I  sha'n't  stop  at 
that;  I  mean  to  go  higher  up  if  I  am  compelled  to. 
I  am  here  this  morning  to  ask  you  to  give  me  your 
word  as  a  gentleman  and  my  friend  that  you  will 
not,  directly  or  indirectly,  do  or  cause  to  be  done 
anything  that  will  make  me  stand  forth  as  a  self- 
convicted  liar  before  the  people  of  this  State.  I 
want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  will  cut  out  all 
the  deals,  all  the  briberies,  all  the  bargainings,  all 
the- 

"Oh,  say;  see  here!"  protested  the  man  under 
fire;  "you've  got  the  wrong  pig  by  the  ear, 
Evan.  I'm  not  the  Transcontinental  Railway 
Company!" 

"I  know  you  are  not.  But,  to  a  greater  degree 
than  any  other  official  in  the  local  management, 
you  have  Mr.  McVickar's  confidence.  If  you  don't 
feel  competent  to  handle  the  thing  on  your  own 
responsibility,  of  course  it's  your  privilege  to  pass 
it  up  to  those  who  have  the  authority.  In  that 
case,  I  wish  to  make  one  point  clear:  you're  the 
man  I'm  going  to  hold  up  to  the  rack.  I  can't  af 
ford  to  spread  myself  over  the  entire  management, 
and  I  don't  mean  to  try.  I'm  going  to  look  to  you, 
Dick,  for  the  backing  of  the  clean  sheet,  and  I  warn 
you  in  all  soberness  that  there  must  be  no  blots  on 
it;  no  compromises;  no  whipping  of  the  devil  around 
the  stump." 


THE  LIEGEMAN  181 

"Great  Scott!"  murmured  Gantry.  "And  you're 
on  the  pay-rolls,  the  same  as  the  rest  of  us!  But 
candidly,  as  man  to  man,  Evan,  the  thing  can't  be 
done,  you  know.  We've  got  to  play  the  game; 
they'll  eat  us  alive  if  we  don't.  You  needn't  figure 
in  it  at  all;  it  was  a  mistake  letting  Sim  Hathaway 
get  to  you,  and  I  said  so  at  the  time.  But  your — 
er — the  powers  that  be  said  it  had  to  be  that  way, 
and  I  had  to  let  him  go  and  ball  you  all  up.  It 
sha'n't  happen  again;  I  can  promise  you  that  much, 
anyway." 

Blount  caught  quickly  at  the  hesitant  pause. 

"Who  were  'the  powers  that  be'  in  Hatha way's 
case,  Dick?"  he  inquired. 

"I  can't  tell  you  that;  honestly,  I  can't,  Evan," 
was  the  anxious  refusal.  "Don't  ask  me." 

"All  right;  then  I  shall  assume  that  Mr.  McVickar 
was  responsible,"  said  Blount  calmly,  thus  proving 
that  he  had  not  taken  his  degree  in  the  law  school 
for  nothing. 

"Oh,  hold  on!  You  mustn't  do  that,  either!" 
protested  the  man  who  was  figuring  most  unwillingly 
as  the  occupant  of  the  witness  stand. 

"Thank  you,"  returned  the  postgraduate,  with 
the  true  Blount  smile.  "Now  I  know  that  it  was 
my  father.  No;  you  needn't  deny  it;  I  suppose  it 
was  for  some  good  reason  that  this  man  was  sent 
to  teach  me  how  to  play  the  game — as  reasons  go 
in  practical  politics.  But  we  are  side-stepping  the 
real  issue.  I've  asked  you  for  a  promise:  will  you 
give  it?" 


1 82    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I — I  can't  give  it,  Evan,  and  hold  my  job;  that's 
God's  own  truth!" 

"No;  it  isn't  God's  truth— it's  the  other  kind. 
But  that  was  about  what  I  expected  you  to  say. 
Now  hear  my  side  of  it:  if  you  don't  clean  house— 
you  and  the  other  officials  of  the  company — I  shall 
not  only  resign;  I  shall  take  the  field  on  the  other 
side  and  tell  what  I  know  and  why  I've  thrown  up 
my  job.  I've  been  telling  everybody  that  this  is  to 
be  a  campaign  of  publicity,  and  by  all  that  is  good 
and  great,  I  shall  keep  my  word,  Dick!" 

"Oh,  for  heaven's  sake,  you  wouldn't  do  that!" 
ejaculated  the  traffic  man,  now  thoroughly  alarmed. 
"Land  of  glory,  Evan!  you  know  too  much — a  great 
deal  too  much!" 

The  young  man  who  knew  too  much  got  up  and 
relighted  his  cigar  with  a  match  taken  from  Gantry'-s 
desk  box. 

"It's  up  to  you,"  he  said,  with  his  hand  on  the 
door-knob.  "Get  into  communication  with  what 
ever  ' powers  that  be'  there  are  that  can  give  the 
necessary  orders;  see  to  it  that  the  orders  are  given, 
and  that  they  are  put  in  the  way  of  being  carried 
out.  As  God  hears  me,  Dick,  I  mean  what  I  say: 
it's  a  clean  sheet,  or  an  exposure  that  will  make  a 
lot  of  you  wish  you  had  never  been  born.  If  I  have 
to  put  the  screws  on — as  I  hope  and  pray  I  sha'n't 
— you  can  bet  they'll  be  put  on  lawyer-fashion;  with 
evidence  that  will  send  a  bunch  of  you  to  the  peni 
tentiary." 

"Hold  on — one  question  before  you  go,  Evan!" 


THE  LIEGEMAN  183 

pleaded  Gantry.  "I  haven't  known  half  the  time 
where  I'm  at  in  this  latest  muddle.  Is  this  another 
little  blind  lead  of  the  Honorable  Sen— of  your 
father's?" 

Blount's  smile  was  as  grim  as  any  that  Gantry 
had  ever  seen  on  the  face  of  the  Honorable  David. 

"It's  against  nature  for  you  to  play  the  game 
straight,  isn't  it,  Dick?"  he  said  in  mild  reproach. 
"If  you  don't  know  that  my  father  is  still  the  head 
of  the  machine,  and  that  the  machine  has  always 
been  for  you  in  the  past,  I  imagine  you're  the 
only  man  in  the  Sage-Brush  State  who  needs  en 
lightening.  No,  Gantry;  you've  got  only  one  man 
to  fight;  but  you  mustn't  forget  that  his  name,  also, 
is  Blount.  Go  to  it  and  send  me  word,  and  let  the 
first  word  be  that  you  have  scotched  the  head  of 
this  lumber-company  snake.  That's  all  for  to-day. 
Good-by." 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  his  day's  work  was 
still  ahead  of  him,  the  traffic  manager  did  not  attack 
it  when  he  was  left  alone.  An  able  man  in  his  call 
ing,  and  one  who  had  fought  his  way  rapidly  by  sheer 
merit  and  hard  work  from  a  clerkship  to  an  official 
desk,  Richard  Gantry  was  still  lacking,  in  a  char 
acter  admirable  and  most  lovable  in  many  ways, 
the  iron  that  refuses  to  bend,  and — though  perhaps 
in  lesser  measure — the  courage  of  his  ultimate  con 
victions.  In  addition  to  these  basic  weaknesses  he 
owned  another — the  weakness  of  the  cog  which  is 
constrained  to  turn  with  the  great  wheel  of  which 
it  is  a  part. 


1 84    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

In  his  heart  of  hearts  Richard  Gantry  knew  that 
Blount  was  right;  knew  that  the  forlorn-hope  fight 
into  which  his  friend  and  college  classmate  had 
plunged  was  a  struggle  to  call  out  all  that  was  best 
and  finest  in  friendly  loyalty.  But  when  he  sprang 
from  his  chair  and  began  to  walk  the  floor  of  his 
private  office  with  his  head  down  and  his  hands 
deeply  buried  in  his  pockets,  he  was  once  more  the 
true  corporation  liegeman,  loyal  to  his  salt,  and 
anxious  only  to  contrive  means  to  an  end. 

"Confound  his  picture!"  he  muttered,  "why  the 
devil  can't  he  see  that  he's  got  everything  to  lose 
and  nothing  to  gain?  It's  a  thousand  pities  that 
such  a  royal  good  fellow  has  to  turn  himself  into  a 
wild-eyed,  impossible  crank!  The  Lord  knows,  I'd 
do  anything  in  reason  for  him;  but  I  can't  let  him 
turn  anarchist  and  blow  us  all  to  kingdom  come. 
He's  got  to  be  muzzled  in  some  way,  and  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  know  how  it's  going  to  be  done." 

The  pacing  monologue  paused  when  the  traffic 
manager  stopped  at  the  window  and  stood  looking 
with  unseeing  eyes  upon  the  morning  bustle  of 
Sierra  Avenue.  Then  he  broke  out  again. 

"It's  a  beautiful  tangle — damn'  beautiful!  Evan 
says  I  know  that  we've  got  the  machine  with  us;  I 
wish  to  heaven  I  did  know  it,  and  could  be  sure  of 
it.  That  would  simplify  matters  a  whole  lot.  But 
the  vice-president  won't  say,  and  he's  the  one  who 
has  been  doing  all  the  dickering  with  the  Honorable 
David.  They  quarrelled  at  first;  I'd  bet  every  dol 
lar  I've  got  on  that.  But  I  more  than  half-believe 


THE  LIEGEMAN  185 

they've  patched  it  up  now,  and  I  believe  it  was  Mr. 
McVickar's  quick  swiping  of  Evan — jerking  him  out 
from  under  his  father's  thumb  the  way  he  did— that 
brought  on  the  peace  negotiations." 

He  turned  away  from  the  window  and  resumed 
the  floor-pacing,  still  wrestling  with  the  deduc 
tions. 

"By  George!  I  believe  I've  got  hold  of  the  end 
of  the  thread  at  last!  The  senator  is  with  us,  work 
ing  in  the  dark,  as  he  always  does.  And  that  Hath 
away  business:  that  was  one  of  his  smooth  little 
side-moves — his  or  Mrs.  Honoria's.  He  didn't  want 
Evan  to  get  in  too  deep  in  the  righteousness  puddle, 
and  he  took  that  way  of  letting  him  get  a  peek  at 
the  real  thing.  It  was  overdone,  though;  horribly 
overdone.  Confound  it  all!  I  wish  Mr.  McVickar 
would  loosen  up  a  little  more  with  me!  If  he'd  tell 
me  a  few  of  the  things  I  ought  to  know " 

The  interruption  was  the  entrance  of  the  boy 
from  the  train-despatcher's  office  with  a  verbal  mes 
sage.  The  vice-president,  moving  westward,  had 
changed  his  plans  and  cut  out  some  of  his  stop 
overs.  Car  "008"  would  be  in  on  the  noon  train 
and  would  proceed  westward,  running  special,  at 
one  o'clock.  The  despatcher  had  thought  that  Mr. 
Gantry  might  want  to  know. 

The  traffic  manager  did  want  to  know,  and  when 
the  boy  had  ducked  out,  the  knowledge  was  promptly 
utilized.  A  touch  of  a  desk-button  brought  the 
stenographer,  and  Gantry  dictated  a  message.  " '  Im 
portant  that  I  should  have  conference  with  you  on 


1 86    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

arrival.  Will  meet  you  at  train  at  twelve- three/ 
Send  that  to  Mr.  McVickar  over  the  despatcher's 
wire,  and  ask  Gilkey  to  rush  it,"  he  directed,  and 
the  shorthand  man  went  to  do  it. 

"Now,  Mr.  Evan  Anarchist  Blount!"  said  Gantry, 
apostrophizing  the  late  disturber  of  his  peace,  "now 
we'll  find  out  just  where  we're  at  and  how  big  a  rope 
it's  going  to  take  to  snub  you  down,"  and  thereupon 
the  desk  buzzer  rattled  again,  and  Mr.  Richard  Gan 
try  squared  himself  for  his  forenoon's  work. 

At  the  moment  of  his  apostrophizing  Blount  was 
opening  his  mail  in  the  Temple  Court  office,  and  la 
menting,  as  a  loyal  friend  might,  the  necessity  for 
the  recent  clubbing  into  line  of  so  fine  a  fellow  as 
Dick  Gantry.  But  the  mail-opening  plunged  him 
once  more  into  the  political  actualities.  There  were 
letters  from  all  over  the  State,  and  among  them 
three  invitations  from  widely  separated  cities,  all 
based  upon  the  newspaper  reports  of  his  Ophir 
speech.  It  seemed  to  be  plainly  evident  that  the 
"campaign-of-education"  idea  was  striking  a  popu 
lar  chord,  and  the  proponent  of  the  idea  saw  what 
a  miraculous  opportunity  was  offering  for  the  rail 
road  if  only  the  "powers"  that  Gantry  had  refused  to 
name  were  broad  enough  and  high-minded  enough 
to  seize  it. 

After  a  day  and  an  evening  well  filled  with  de 
tail,  Blount  went  to  the  station  to  take  the  nine- 
thirty  west-bound,  since  the  first  of  the  three  speak 
ing  engagements — all  of  which  had  been  promptly 
accepted  by  wire — lay  in  that  direction.  On  the 


*  THE  LIEGEMAN  187 

platform,  whither  he  went  to  consult  the  bulletin- 
board,  he  found  Gantry. 

"Your  train  is  half  an  hour  late,"  said  the  traffic 
man,  with  a  glance  for  the  travelling-bag  in  Blount's 
hand.  "Didn't  they  know  enough  at  the  hotel  to 
tell  you  about  it?" 

"They  told  me  it  was  on  time,"  said  the  putative 
traveller,  and  he  was  far  enough  from  suspecting 
that  Gantry  himself  had  arranged  to  have  the  inac 
curate  information  given  across  the  counter  at  the 
Inter-Mountain,  so  that  he  might  be  sure  of  an  un 
interrupted  half-hour  with  Blount  before  he  should 
leave  the  city. 

"Ump!"  said  the  traffic  manager,  "I've  got  to 
wait  for  it,  too.  One  of  my  men  is  coming  in  on  it. 
Let's  go  up  to  the  office.  It's  pleasanter  there." 

Together  they  climbed  the  stair  to  the  second 
floor  of  the  station  building,  and  Gantry  unlocked 
the  door  of  his  private  room  and  turned  on  the 
lights. 

"Feeling  any  more  humane  than  you  did  this 
morning?"  he  inquired  genially,  after  he  had  opened 
his  desk  and  found  a  box  of  cigars. 

"I  haven't  been  feeling  otherwise  since — well, 
let's  say  since  midnight  last  night,"  countered 
Blount  laughing. 

"Why  midnight?" 

"That  was  about  the  time  when  I  made  up  my 
mind  definitely  to  stay  in  the  fight." 

"Then  you  are  still  meaning  to  go  ahead  on  the 
lines  you  laid  down  this  morning?" 


1 88    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"If  I  wasn't,  I  shouldn't  be  here  to  take  the 
train  for  the  rally  at  Angora  to-morrow  night." 

Gantry  smoked  in  silence  for  a  little  time.  Then 
he  said:  "You  can't  do  it,  Evan.  It's  fine  and  glo 
rious  and  heart-breaking,  and  all  that;  but  you  can't 
do  it." 

"I  can,  and  I  will!" 

"I  say  you  can't.  I  know  a  good  bit  more  now 
than  I  knew  this  morning!" 

"  Catalogue  it,"  said  Blount  tersely. 

"Mr.  McVickar  came  in  on  the  noon  train  to-day, 
and  I  had  an  interview  with  him." 

"That  doesn't  tell  me  anything." 

Again  the  traffic  manager  took  time  to  smoke  and 
to  reflect. 

"You  made  some  pretty  savage  threats  this  morn 
ing,  Evan;  about  shoving  this  thing  to  the  point 
where  the  grand  juries,  Federal  and  State,  could  take 
hold  of  it.  As  a  lawyer,  you  know  even  better  than 
I  do  what  that  would  mean." 

"I  told  you  what  it  would  mean.  In  the  present 
state  of  public  sentiment  it  would  mean  prison  sen 
tences  for  every  man  of  you  caught  with  the  goods." 

"Yes,  for  every  man  of  us,"  said  Gantry  slowly; 
"for  the  railroad  man  who  has  given,  and  for  the 
other  man  who  has  taken.  Evan,  the  jails  of  this 
State  wouldn't  be  big  enough  to  hold  us  all." 

"I  can  readily  believe  you.  That  is  the  full 
weight  of  the  stick  with  which  I  am  going  to  club 
you  fellows  into  decency." 

"And  you'll  let  the  club  fall  wherever  it  may?" 


THE  LIEGEMAN  189 

"I've  got  to  do  that,  Dick;  I  can't  do  any  less." 

For  the  third  time  Gantry  paused.  The  train- 
waiting  interval  was  half  gone,  and  he  had  been 
feeling  purposefully  for  the  climaxing  moment  with 
out  rinding  it.  But  now  he  decided  that  it  had 
come. 

"In  the  talk  this  morning  there  was  some  refer 
ence  made  to  your  father  and  his  attitude  in  this 
fight,  Evan.  Do  you  remember  what  was  said?" 

"Perfectly." 

"Well,  suppose  I  should  tell  you  that  I  know 
now — what  I  didn't  know  certainly  then — that  when 
you  hit  out  at  us  you  hit  him?" 

"You  mean  that  he  is  with  you  in  this  scheme 
to  hoodwink  the  people?" 

"Ask  yourself,"  was  the  low-toned  reply. 

"I  have  asked  myself  a  hundred  times,  Dick; 
I've  been  hoping  against  hope.  I'll  be  utterly  frank 
with  you,  as  man  to  man.  We've  kept  pretty  ob 
stinately  out  of  the  political  field,  both  of  us,  father 
and  I,  since  the  first  day  when  I  told  him  my  views 
on  machine-made  government.  But  from  a  few  little 
things  he  has  said,  I've  gathered  that  he  isn't  with 
you;  that  there  has  been  a  quarrel  of  some  kind 
between  him  and  Mr.  McVickar " 

"There  was  a  set-to — a  battle  royal,"  Gantry  put 
in.  "The  last  act  of  it  was  played  to  a  finish  that 
evening  when  Mr.  McVickar  took  you  down  to  his 
car  and  hired  you.  But  there  has  been  a  meeting 
since.  Ask  yourself  again,  Evan.  Haven't  you  had 
good  and  sufficient  reasons  for  believing  that  you 


THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

are  bucking,  not  only  the  railroad  company,  but  your 
own  flesh  and  blood?" 

This  time  it  was  Blount  who  took  time  for  reflec 
tion.  The  shot  had  gone  home.  He  told  himself 
that  there  were  only  too  many  reasons  for  believing 
that  Gantry  was  stating  the  simple  fact.  None  the 
less,  he  made  a  final  effort  to  break  down  the  con 
clusion  that  Gantry  was  relentlessly  thrusting  upon 
him. 

"In  all  our  talks,  Dick — there  haven't  been  very 
many  of  them — my  father  has  taken,  or  seemed  to 
take,  a  different  line.  I  don't  recall  anything  spe 
cific  just  now,  but  he  has  given  me  the  impression 
that  he  hasn't  much  in  common  with  Mr.  McVickar 
and  his  methods.  To  hear  him  talk " 

Gantry  smiled.  "You  know  your  father  very 
superficially,  Evan,  if  you'll  permit  me  to  say  so. 
What  the  Honorable  David  Blount  says  in  talk  with 
you  or  me  or  anybody  outside  of  the  inner  circle  is 
a  mighty  poor  foundation  upon  which  to  build  any 
idea  of  what's  going  on  in  the  back  of  his  head.  No 
— hold  on;  don't  get  mad.  What  I'm  trying  to  tell 
you  is  what  everybody  in  the  sage-brush  hills- 
save  and  excepting  yourself — knows  like  a  book,  and 
that  is  that  the  big  boss's  moves  are  all  made  strictly 
in  the  dark.  He  doesn't  let  his  own  right  hand  know 
what  the  left  is  doing.  That's  the  secret  of  his  ab 
solutely  Czarish  power,  I  think." 

The  shriek  of  a  distant  locomotive  whistle  floated 
in  through  the  open  window  at  Blount's  back  and 
he  got  up  stiffly. 


THE  LIEGEMAN  191 

"That's  my  train  coining,"  he  said.  And  then: 
"Tell  me  plainly,  Dick:  you  brought  me  up  here 
to  throw  a  final  brick — a  bigger  one  than  you  have 
yet  thrown — and  I  know  it.  What  did  Mr.  Mc- 
Vickar  tell  you  to-day  that  will  make  my  job  harder 
than  I  am  already  finding  it?" 

Gantry  turned  his  head,  refusing  to  meet  the 
straightforward  gaze  of  the  questioner. 

"You  intimated  this  morning  that  you  would  go 
at  it  lawyer-fashion,  Evan,"  he  said;  "which  means, 
I  suppose,  that  you  would  get  the  evidence  on  us. 
You  can  do  it;  the  Lord  knows,  there's  plenty  of  it 
to  be  had.  But  when  you  pull  out  one  set  of  props 
the  whole  thing  will  come  down.  We  haven't  any 
of  us  been  careful  enough  about  what  we  put  in 
writing — not  even  your  father." 

Blount  staggered  as  if  the  words  had  been  a 
blow. 

"You're  trying  to  tell  me  that  my  father  would 
be  involved  in  the  disclosures  you  fellows  might 
drive  me  to  make?  "  he  demanded,  and  his  voice  was 
husky. 

Gantry  was  still  looking  away.  "There  always 
has  to  be  an  intermediary — you  know  that.  We 
can't  do  business  direct  with  these — with  the  people 
who  have  something  to  sell.  You  can  draw  your 
own  inferences,  Evan.  I  didn't  send  Hathaway  to 
you;  I  sent  him  to  your  father." 

The  train  was  thundering  into  the  station  and 
Blount  picked  up  his  hand-bag  and  went  out,  stum 
bling  blindly  in  the  unlighted  passage  at  the  stair- 


IQ2    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

head.  And  in  the  private  office  behind  him  the 
traffic  manager  was  crushing  his  dead  cigar  in  his 
clenched  hand  and  staring  fixedly  at  the  square  of 
darkness  framed  by  the  open  window. 


XIV 
BARRIERS  INVISIBLE 

DURING  the  three  weeks  following  the  night  jour 
ney  to  Angora,  a  journey  on  which  he  once  more 
fought  the  hard  battle  to  a  still  sharper  conclusion, 
Evan  Blount  scarcely  saw  his  office  in  Temple  Court 
for  more  than  a  brief  hour  or  two  at  a  time.  One 
speaking  appointment  followed  another  in  such  rapid 
succession  that  he  was  constantly  going  or  return 
ing;  and  since  there  was  everywhere  a  repetition 
of  the  welcome  accorded  him  by  the  miners  of  the 
Carnadine  district,  there  was  no  reason  save  physical 
weariness  to  make  him  wish  to  limit  his  opportunity. 

It  was  not  until  he  was  deep  into  the  fourth  week 
of  the  hurryings  to  and  fro  that  he  began  to  admit 
a  suspicion  which  grew  like  a  juggler's  rose  once  he 
had  given  it  place.  Could  it  be  possible  that  these 
numerous  invitations,  coming  now  from  all  parts 
of  the  State,  were  purely  spontaneous?  If  not,  if 
they  were  so  many  subtle  moves  in  the  great  game, 
he  could  see  no  possible  end  to  be  subserved  by 
them  save  one:  they  were  effectually  keeping  him 
away  from  the  capital,  which  was  naturally  the  nu 
cleus  and  centre  of  the  campaign  activities.  Was 
there  something  going  on  at  headquarters  that  "the 

193 


194    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

powers"  did  not  wish  him  to  find  out?  Of  one 
thing  he  was  well  assured.  Gantry  was  dodging 
him,  was  apparently  keeping  an  accurate  record 
of  his  movements;  for  whenever  the  hurryings  per 
mitted  a  flying  return  to  the  capital  the  traffic 
manager  was  always  out  of  town 

These  were  small  matters,  but  vital  in  their  way. 
Failing  to  keep  in  touch  with  Gantry,  Blount  could 
never  be  sure  that  the  policy  of  the  railroad  com 
pany  had  been  reformed  or  changed  in  any  respect. 
Moreover,  his  journeyings,  which  brought  him  in 
direct  contact  with  the  voters  themselves,  seemed 
to  have  the  effect  of  isolating  him  curiously  in  the 
actual  battle-field.  That  a  hot  political  campaign 
was  raging  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  State  was  not  to  be  doubted;  the  newspapers 
were  full  of  it,  and  in  many  districts  the  fight  had 
become  acrimonious  and  bitter.  But  although  he 
was  supposed  to  be  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  he  knew 
that  he  was  not;  that  some  mysterious  influence  was 
shutting  him  out  and  holding  him  at  arm's  length. 

Everywhere  he  went  the  cordial  reception,  the 
attentive  and  hospitable  committeemen,  the  packed 
house,  and  the  generous  applause  were  always  await 
ing  him.  It  was  as  if  his  progress  had  been  care 
fully  prearranged,  like  a  sort  of  triumphal  proces 
sion.  None  the  less,  the  invisible  barrier — the 
barrier  which  was  excluding  him  from  a  hand-to- 
hand  grapple  with  the  inner  workings  of  the  cam 
paign — was  always  there,  and  he  could  neither  sur 
mount  it  nor  push  it  aside. 


BARRIERS  INVISIBLE  195 

Notwithstanding  the  hard  work  and  hard  trav 
elling,  he  did  not  allow  the  missionary  effort  and  its 
curious  isolation  to  obscure  in  any  sense  the  sturdier 
purpose.  By  every  means  he  could  devise  he  was 
holding  his  principals  up  to  the  mirror  of  a  vigilant 
watchfulness.  Arguing  that  the  opposition  news 
papers  would  be  quick  to  seize  upon  any  charge  of 
corruption  involving  the  railroad  company,  he  read 
them  faithfully.  As  yet  there  had  been  only  innu 
endoes  and  a  raking  over  of  past  misdeeds,  though 
by  this  time  many  of  the  editors  were  openly  claim 
ing  that  the  old  alliance  between  the  railroad  and 
the  machine  had  never  been  broken,  and  warning 
their  readers  accordingly. 

Blount  winced  when  he  read  such  editorials  as 
these.  Though  he  was  going  about,  striving  to  do 
his  part  manfully,  and  even  with  enthusiasm,  the 
burden  of  the  cruel  responsibility  he  had  volunta 
rily  shouldered  was  never  less  than  crushing.  His 
only  hope  lay  in  success.  If  he  could  make  Gantry 
and  his  superiors  come  clean-handed  to  the  elec 
tion,  there  need  be  no  exposure,  no  cataclysm  in 
volving  both  the  railroad  officials  and  his  father. 

So  ran  the  saving  hope;  and  not  content  with 
mere  watchfulness,  Blount  tried  to  get  his  finger 
upon  the  pulse  of  occasions  whenever  he  could.  On 
his  brief  stop-overs  in  the  capital  he  kept  his  eyes 
and  ears  open  for  the  earliest  hint  of  any  charge 
of  chicanery,  and  though  he  was  unable  to  get  hold 
of  Gantry  personally,  he  kept  up  a  steady  fire  of 
letters  and  telegrams,  all  pointing  to  the  same  end 


196    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

— absolute  and  utter  good  faith,  and  the  upholding 
of  his  hands  in  the  public  plea  for  a  square  deal. 
To  these  the  traffic  manager  always  replied  guard 
edly  and  optimistically.  Everybody  was  delighted 
with  the  good  work  done,  and  doing,  by  the  railroad 
company's  field  manager;  public  opinion  was  slowly 
but  surely  changing;  let  the  good  work  go  on — and 
much  more  to  the  same  effect. 

Blount  did  let  the  good  work  go  on;  but  as  the 
critical  pre-election  weeks  approached,  he  began  to 
arm  himself,  reluctantly  but  resolutely.  A  little 
quiet  investigation,  which  was  made  to  dovetail 
cleverly  with  his  speech-making  journeys,  revealed 
— as  Gantry  had  confessed  it  would — convincing 
evidence  of  past  corruption  and  present  law-break 
ing.  Hathaway  had  told  the  truth  when  he  had 
asserted  that  his  own  involvement  was  only  one  of 
many  similar  bargains.  Blount  called  upon  the 
president  of  the  Irrigation  Alliance  at  Romero,  in 
the  heart  of  the  agricultural  district,  upon  the  man 
agers  of  several  of  the  electric-power  companies,  and 
upon  a  number  of  influential  mining  men — all  ship 
pers,  and  all  large  employers  of  labor.  It  was  the 
same  story  everywhere.  Preferential  freight  rates 
had  been  given  in  return  for  votes  controlled,  and 
the  rates  were  still  in  effect. 

The  investigator  turned  sick  at  heart  when  these 
men  talked  quite  freely  to  him,  thus  showing  con 
clusively  that  they  were  cynically  discounting  his 
public  utterances.  McDarragh,  owner  and  man 
ager  of  the  "  Wire-Gold "  properties  in  the  Moscow 


BARRIERS  INVISIBLE  197 

district,  winked  slyly  when  Blount  cautiously  in 
serted  the  probe. 

"You're  on,  Mr.  Blount.  I  sat  up  there  in  the 
Op'ry-house  last  night  listening  to  your  game,  and 
says  I  to  myself,  'Thim  railroad  shift-bosses  know 
their  trade.'  'Twas  a  gr-reat  talk  you  gave  us,  and 
it'll  make  the  swinging  of  the  har-rd-rock  vote  as 
easy  as  twice  two.  Of  course,  we  have  a  thin  paring 
on  the  ore  rate;  you'll  be  knowing  that  as  well  as 
annybody  in  the  game,  I'm  thinking.  'Tis  well  that 
we  fellows  at  the  top  know  how  to  make  one  hand 
wash  the  other.  Come  again,  Mr.  Blount,  and  give 
my  regards  to  the  sinator  when  ye  see  him.  And 
ye  might  whisper  in  his  ear  that  it's  a  waste  of  good 
wor-rk  for  him  to  be  sinding  his  gum-shoe  wire 
pullers  to  be  laboring  with  our  min.  We're  safe  as 
the  clock  up  here  in  the  Moscow." 

This  was  not  the  first  hint  that  Blount  had  been 
given  pointing  to  the  underground  work  of  the  ma 
chine.  That  this  work  was  being  directed  toward 
the  subversion  of  the  popular  will,  he  made  no  doubt; 
and  there  were  times  when  he  was  strongly  tempted 
to  carry  the  war  boldly  into  the  wider  field  of  graft 
and  bossism.  That  he  postponed  the  bigger  battle 
was  due  quite  as  much  to  the  singleness  of  purpose 
which  was  his  best  gift  as  to  the  desire  to  spare  his 
father.  Telling  himself  resolutely  that  the  reforma 
tion  of  the  railroad  company's  political  methods  was 
his  chief  object,  and  the  only  one  which  warranted 
him  in  retaining  his  place  on  the  company's  pay 
rolls,  he  held  aloof  when  his  father's  name  was  men- 


1 98    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

tioned  and  bent  himself  to  the  task  of  providing  the 
means  for  the  subjugation  of  Gantry — and  of  Gan 
try's  and  his  own  superiors,  if  need  be. 
'  The  securing  of  evidence  of  the  kind  which  would 
really  give  him  the  whip-hand  promised  to  be  a 
delicate  undertaking.  Men  like  McDarragh  talked 
openly  enough  about  the  illegal  special  freight  rates, 
but  talk  was  not  evidence.  Curiously  enough,  while 
he  was  trying  to  devise  some  way  of  obtaining  the 
tangible  proof  without  using  his  semiofficial  posi 
tion  in  the  company's  service  as  a  lever,  the  thing 
itself  was  thrown  at  him.  From  some  mysterious 
source  a  rumor  went  out  that  the  special  rates  were 
in  jeopardy;  and  the  very  men  with  whom  he  had 
talked  began  to  write  him  importunate  letters  beg 
ging  him  to  deny  the  rumor.  With  a  sheaf  of  these 
letters  in  his  pocket,  each  one  inculpating  both  par 
ties  to  the  illegal  "deals,"  Blount  grew  gayly  exult 
ant.  The  natural  inference  was  that  Gantry  and 
"the  powers"  had  been  finally  forced  to  yield — that 
he  had  won  his  victory.  But  if  he  had  not  yet  won 
it,  chance,  or  something  better,  had  placed  in  his 
hands  the  weapon  with  which  he  could  compel  a 
return  to  fair  dealing  and  honesty. 

It  was  on  a  second  speech-making  visit  to  Ophir 
that  Blount  had  his  first  face-to-face  chance  at  Gan 
try.  A  meeting  of  the  Mine-Owners'  Association, 
moving  for  a  readjustment  of  the  classification  on 
copper  matte  and  bullion  at  a  time  when  the  rail 
road  company  might  be  supposed  to  be  on  the  giv 
ing  hand,  brought  Gantry  to  the  gold  camp  in  the 


BARRIERS  INVISIBLE  199 

Carnadine  Hills,  and  the  first  man  he  met  at  the 
hotel  was  the  stubborn  dictator  of  new  policies  for 
the  Transcontinental  Company. 

"Hello,  Dick!  made  a  mistake,  didn't  you — 
coming  while  I  was  here?"  said  the  reformer,  with 
a  very  lifelike  replica  of  his  father's  grim  smile. 
"I  suppose  you  have  an  immediate  engagement  to 
go  somewhere  else,  or  to  do  something  that  will  give 
you  a  chance  to  dodge?" 

"No;  I  wish  to  the  Lord  I  had!"  was  the  hearty 
admission.  "You're  a  fright,  Evan;  you  are  getting 
to  be  a  perfect  nightmare,  with  your  letters  and 
telegrams.  You've  got  me  so  I'm  afraid  to  open 
my  desk." 

Blount  nodded  gravely.  "I'm  glad  the  letters 
and  telegrams  have  had  their  effect  at  last,"  he  re 
joined. 

"Had  their  effect?  Yes,  they've  had  the  effect 
of  turning  my  hair  gray,  if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"I  think  you  know  what  I  mean,  Dick." 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do.    What  are  you  driving  at  ?  " 

"At  the  fact  that  you  have  finally  concluded  to 
cancel  the  crooked  deals  with — wait,  and  I'll  give 
you  the  names  of  the  co-respondents" — and  he  drew 
a  packet  of  neatly  docketed  letters  from  his  pocket. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  protested  the  traffic  man 
ager;  "you're  getting  in  rather  too  deep  for  me. 
Will  you  let  me  see  those  letters?" 

Blount  put  the  letters  back  into  his  pocket  and 
mechanically  buttoned  his  light  top-coat  over  them 
for  additional  safety. 


200    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  haven't  passed 
the  word  to  Hathaway  and  McDarragh  and  a  dozen 
others  I  could  name?"  he  asked. 

"Of  course  I  haven't.  You  call  yourself  a  law 
yer,  and  yet  you  ask  us  to  set  aside  promises  that 
are,  or  ought  to  be,  as  binding  as  so  many  written 
contracts  with  penalties  attached.  You're  crazy, 
Evan;  it  can't  be  done,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it. " 

Blount  was  frowning  thoughtfully.  " '  Can't '  goes 
out  of  the  window  when  'must'  comes  in  at  the  door, 
Dick.  You  remember  what  I  told  you — that  I'd 
get  evidence,  lawyer-fashion.  I've  got  it;  evidence 
of  the  sort  that  would  turn  the  people  of  this  State 
into  a  howling  mob  to  tear  up  your  tracks  if  I  should 
publish  it." 

"But  I  tell  you  we  can't  withdraw  the  specials, 
you  wild-eyed  fanatic!" 

"All  right;  then  level  down  the  public's  rates  to 
fit  them.  And  do  it  quickly,  old  man.  The  time 
is  growing  fearfully  short,  and  my  patience  isn't 
what  it  used  to  be." 

"My  Lord!  anybody  would  think  you  owned  the 
Transcontinental  Company,  lock,  stock,  and  barrel! 
Where  under  heaven  did  you  get  your  nerve,  Evan? 
Blest  if  I  don't  believe  you  could  out-bluff  the  old 
er — your  father,  himself,  if  you  once  got  the  fool 
notion  into  your  head  that  it  was  your  duty  to  try ! " 

"You  are  side-stepping  again,  Dick,  and  that 
won't  go  any  longer.  You've  got  to  fish  or  cut 
bait,  and  do  one  or  the  other  pretty  soon." 

"I'd  cut  the  bait  all  right,  if  I  were  Mr.  Me- 


BARRIERS  INVISIBLE   .  201 

Vickar,  Evan.  I'd  fire  you  so  blamed  far  that  you 
wouldn't  be  able  to  find  your  way  back  in  a  month 
of  Sundays." 

Blount  tapped  his  pocket.  "As  long  as  I  have 
these  documents,  Mr.  McVickar  doesn't  dare  to 
fire  me.  And  if  you  and  he  don't  come  down  within 
the  next  few  days — yes,  it's  a  matter  of  days,  now— 
I'll  fire  myself  and  go  over  every  foot  of  the  ground 
again,  telling  what  I  know." 

Gantry's  eyes  darkened.  He  had  graduated  with 
honors  from  the  particular  department  in  railroad 
ing  in  which  patience  is  more  than  a  virtue.  Yet 
there  are  limits. 

"You  seem  to  have  entirely  forgotten  that  little 
talk  we  had  in  my  office  the  night  you  were  going 
to  Angora,"  he  said. 

"No;  I  haven't  forgotten  it — not  for  a  single 
waking  minute." 

"What  I  said  to  you  then  goes  as  it  lies,"  was  the 
threatening  reminder.  "If  you  pull  the  props  out, 
there'll  be  more  than  one  death  in  the  family." 

"You  mean  that  you,  or  Mr.  McVickar,  will  make 
it  a  point  to  include  my  father;  I've  wrestled  that 
out,  too,  Dick.  I'm  going  to  try  to  pull  him  out 
of  it,  but  whether  I  succeed  or  fail,  the  consequences 
will  be  the  same  for  you  fellows.  Come  and  hear 
me  speak  to-night,  Dick — if  you're  stopping  over 
that  long.  Then  you'll  know  how  much  in  earnest 
— how  deadly  in  earnest — I  am.  You  spoke  of  my 
father  just  now;  I  want  to  remind  you  again  that 
I,  too,  bear  the  Blount  name — a  name  that  I  have 


202    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

heard  bandied  about  as  a  synonym  for  all  that  is 
worst  in  our  political  life.  Don't  you  see  that  I've 
got  to  make  good?" 

"Oh,  great  cats! — you  and  your  high-strung  no 
tions  of  what  you've  got  to  do!"  snorted  the  traffic 
manager,  and  he  went  away  to  his  classification 
meeting. 


XV 

SWORD-PLAY 

IT  was  during  this  hard-travelling  period  that 
Blount  saw,  with  keen  regret,  the  gradual  widening 
of  the  breach  between  his  father  and  himself.  In 
their  infrequent  meetings  there  was  never  anything 
remotely  approaching  an  open  rupture;  but  in  a 
thousand  ways  the  younger  man  fancied  he  could 
see  and  feel  the  steady  growth  of  the  rift. 

That  the  long  arm  of  the  machine  of  which  his 
father  was  the  acknowledged  head  was  reaching  out 
into  all  corners  of  the  State,  was  a  fact  no  longer  to 
be  doubted,  and  that  the  influences  thus  set  in  mo 
tion  were  sinister,  he  took  for  granted.  Therefore, 
when  it  came  in  his  way,  he  scored  the  machine 
frankly,  charging  it  with  much  of  the  mischief  which 
had  been  wrought  in  the  way  of  arousing  public 
sentiment  against  the  corporations.  "The  worst  in 
politics  joined  with  the  worst  elements  in  capital 
ized  industry,"  was  his  platform  characterization  of 
the  alliances  of  the  past,  and  he  usually  added  that 
he  was  fighting  it  as  every  honest  man  was  in  duty 
bound  to  fight  it.  But  it  is  hard  to  fight  in  the 
dark.  After  all  was  said,  he  could  not  help  admir- 

203 


204    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

ing  the  subtlety  of  the  master  brain  which  was  able 
to  control  and  direct  such  a  complicated  piece  of 
human  mechanism;  direct  it  so  skilfully  and  cleverly 
that,  though  the  name  of  the  thing  was  in  every 
body's  mouth,  its  workings  were  so  carefully  con 
cealed  that  it  was  only  by  the  merest  chance  that 
he  stumbled  upon  them  now  and  then. 

In  more  than  one  of  the  short  stop-overs  in  the 
capital  he  had  found  his  father  still  occupying  the 
private  suite  at  the  Inter-Mountain,  and  now  and 
again  there  was  a  meal  shared  in  the  more  or  less 
crowded  cafe.  On  such  occasions  the  son  leaned 
heavily  upon  the  public  character  of  the  place  and 
carefully  steered  the  table-talk — or  thought  he  did 
—into  innocuous  channels.  But  on  a  day  shortly 
after  the  meeting  with  Gantry  in  Ophir  this  desul 
tory  programme  was  broken.  Reaching  the  hotel 
in  the  evening  after  an  all-day  train  journey  from 
Lewiston,  Blount  found  his  father  waiting  for  him 
in  the  lobby,  and  when  he  proposed  a  cafe  dinner 
the  senator  shook  his  head. 

"No,  son;  not  this  evening,"  he  said.  "I've 
been  feeling  sort  of  set  up  and  aristocratic  to-day, 
and  I've  just  ordered  a  dinner  sent  upstairs.  I 
reckon  you'll  join  me?" 

The  young  man  was  willing  enough;  more  than 
willing,  since  he  was  now  ready  to  say  a  thing  which 
must  be  said  before  he  could  be  prepared  to  set  a 
time  limit  upon  Gantry — a  limit  beyond  which  lay 
the  firing  of  the  fuse  and  the  blowing  up  of  all 
things  mundane. 


SWORD-PLAY  205 

"  Certainly,"  he  agreed.  "  Give  me  a  few  minutes 
to  change  my  clothes 

"You  look  good  enough  to  me  just  as  you  are, 
boy,"  said  the  dinner-giver,  and  he  took  his  son  by 
the  arm  and  walked  him  to  the  elevator. 

In  the  private  dining-room  Blount  found  the  table 
laid  for  two,  much  as  if  his  coming  had  been  pre 
figured.  He  let  that  go,  and  for  the  time  the  talk 
was  of  the  doings  at  Wartrace  Hall:  of  the  pro 
fessor's  enthusiastic  digging  for  fossils,  of  Patricia's 
keen  enjoyment  of  the  life  in  the  open,  and — this 
put  with  gentle  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  news- 
bringer — of  Mrs.  Honoria's  growing  affection  for 
the  young  woman  whose  ambitions  reached  out  to 
ward  a  sociological  career. 

"You  say  Patricia  is  learning  to  drive  a  car?" 
queried  Patricia's  lover. 

"Best  woman  driver  I  ever  saw,"  was  the  sena 
tor's  praiseful  rejoinder.  "Nothing  feazes  that  little 
girl,  and  I'm  telling  you  that  she  can  turn  the  wheels 
just  about  as  fast  as  you  want  to  ride." 

This  was  a  new  aspect  of  Miss  Aimers,  even  to 
one  who  knew  her  as  well  as  Blount  thought  he 
knew  her,  and,  lover-like,  he  found  a  grain  of  en 
couragement  in  it.  Patricia  had  never  cared  for  the 
out-of-door  things  save  as  they  bore  upon  the  hy 
gienic  condition  of  the  poor  in  the  great  cities.  If 
she  had  changed  in  one  respect,  she  might  change 
in  another. 

"I'm  glad  to  know  that,"  he  commented.  "She 
was  needing  an  outlet  on  that  side.  There  is  a  good 


206    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

bit  of  the  Puritan  in  her — all  work  and  no  play,  you 
know." 

The  senator  looked  out  from  beneath  his  shaggy 
eyebrows.  "Speaking  of  work;  they're  working 
you  pretty  hard  these  days,  aren't  they,  son?  If 
you  belonged  to  my  generation  instead  of  your  own, 
you  wouldn't  be  cold-shouldering  that  young  woman 
out  yonder  at  Wartrace  the  way  you  do;  not  for 
all  the  politics  that  were  ever  hatched." 

"  I  have  my  work  to  do,  and  Patricia  Anners  would 
be  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  put  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  it,"  returned  the  son  gravely.  Then  he 
added:  "I  wish  I  could  say  as  much  for  other 
people." 

The  boss  shot  another  keen  glance  across  the 
table.  "Somebody  been  trying  to  block  you,  Evan, 
boy?"  he  asked. 

Blount  met  the  gaze  of  the  shrewd  gray  eyes 
without  flinching. 

"I  don't  know  of  any  good  reason  why  we 
shouldn't  be  entirely  frank  with  each  other,  dad," 
he  said,  using  for  the  first  time  since  his  return  to 
the  homeland  the  old  boyhood  father-name.  "You 
know,  better  than  any  one  else,  I  think,  what  the 
stumbling-blocks  are,  and  who  is  putting  them  in 
my  way." 

"Maybe  so;  maybe  I  do,"  was  the  even- toned 
answer.  "It  happens  so,  once  in  a  while,  that  I 
know  a  heap  of  things  I  can't  tell,  son."  Then: 
"Has  McVickar  been  calling  you  down?" 

"No  one  has  called  me  down.    But  some  one,  or 


SWORD-PLAY  207 

something,  is  keeping  me  out  of  the  real  fight.  I 
don't  mean  that  I'm  not  doing  what  I  set  out  to  do: 
I've  got  my  own  particular  abomination  by  the 
neck,  and  I'm  about  to  choke  the  life  out  of  it.  But 
that  is,  as  you  might  say,  a  side  issue.  The  real 
struggle  is  going  on  all  around  me,  but  I'm  not  in 
it  or  of  it.  Everywhere  I  go  there  is  the  same  cut- 
and-dried  welcome,  the  same  predetermined  enthu 
siasm.  Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  all  the  people  I 
meet  have  been  instructed  to  make  things  pleasant 
and  easy  for  me." 

The  senator's  chuckle  was  barely  audible. 

"Seems  as  if  I  wouldn't  find  fault  with  that,  if  I 
were  you,  son,"  he  suggested.  "You  are  like  the 
boy  who  has  found  a  good  piece  of  skating  over  a 
sheet  of  fine,  smooth  ice,  and  takes  to  complaining 
because  it  won't  break  and  let  him  down  into  the 
cold  water.  You'll  get  enough  of  the  real  thing  by 
and  by." 

Evan  Blount  felt  his  anger  rising.  He  was  in 
precisely  the  right  mood  to  construe  the  gentle  jest 
into  an  admission  that  his  father,  failing  to  make 
him  a  cog  in  one  of  the  wheels  of  the  machine,  had 
gone  about  in  some  mysterious  way  to  insulate  him 
— to  make  it  impossible  for  him  to  get  into  the  real 
tide  of  affairs.  But  he  kept  his  temper,  in  a  measure, 
at  least. 

"I  guess  it's  no  use  for  us  to  try  to  get  together," 
he  said  with  a  tang  of  abruptness  in  his  tone.  "We 
are  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other  at  every 
point,  you  and  I,  dad.  I  stand  for  democracy,  the 


208    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

will  of  the  people  and  its  fullest  and  freest  expres 
sion.  You  stand  for ' 

"Well,  son,  what  do  I  stand  for?"  queried  the 
father,  and  the  question  was  put  with  a  quizzical 
smile  that  brought  the  hot  blood  boyishly  to  Blount's 
cheeks. 

"If  I  should  say  what  all  men  say — what  some  of 
them  are  frank  enough  to  say  even  to  me — "  he 
stopped  short,  and  then  went  on  with  better  self- 
control:  "Let's  keep  the  peace  if  we  can,  dad." 

"Oh,  I  reckon  we  can  do  that,"  was  the  good- 
natured  rejoinder.  "  Being  on  the  railroad  side,  your 
self,  you  can't  help  feeling  sort  of  hostile  at  the  rest 
of  us,  I  reckon." 

Blount  put  his  knife  and  fork  down  and  straight 
ened  himself  in  his  chair. 

"There  it  is  again,  you  see.  We  can't  get  to 
gether  even  on  a  question  of  admitted  fact!  Do 
you  suppose  for  a  single  minute,  dad,  that  I've  been 
going  up  and  down,  and  around  and  about,  all  these 
weeks  without  finding  out  that  the  old  alliance  of 
the  machine  with  the  very  element  in  the  railroad 
policy  that  I  am  fighting  is  still  in  existence?" 

The  senator  was  nodding  soberly.  "So  you've 
found  that  out,  too,  have  you?"  he  commented. 

"I  have,  and  I  wish  that  were  the  worst  of  it,  but 
it  isn't,  dad.  There's  a  thing  behind  the  alliance 
that  cuts  deeper  than  anything  else  I've  had  to  face." 

Once  more  the  deep-set  eyes  looked  out  from  their 
bushy  penthouses.  "Reckon  you  could  give  it  a 
name,  son?" 


SWORD-PLAY  209 

"Yes;  when  you  found  that  I  wasn't  going  to  let 
you  run  me  for  the  attorney-generalship,  you  ar 
ranged  with  Mr.  McVickar  to  have  me  put  on  the 
railroad  pay-roll.  Isn't  that  the  fact?" 

"Not  exactly,"  said  the  senator,  and  a  grim  smile 
went  with  the  qualified  denial.  "It  was  sort  of  the 
other  way  round.  I  reckon  McVickar  thought  he 
was  putting  one  across  on  me  when  he  offered  you 
the  railroad  job  and  got  you  to  take  it." 

"I  know;  that  was  at  first.  You  and  he  couldn't 
come  to  terms  because  you — because  the  machine 
wanted  more  than  he  was  willing  to  give.  But 
afterward  there  was  another  meeting  and  you  got 
together.  That  part  of  it  was  all  right,  if  you  see 
it  that  way.  What  broke  my  heart  was  the  fact 
that  you  and  he  agreed  to  put  me  up  as  a  fence 
behind  which  all  the  crookedness  and  rascality  of  a 
corrupt  campaign  could  be  screened." 

In  the  pause  which  followed,  a  deft  waiter  slipped 
in  to  change  the  courses.  When  the  man  was  gone, 
Blount  went  on. 

"It  came  mighty  near  smashing  me  when  I  found 
it  out,  dad.  It  wasn't  so  much  the  thing  itself  as 
it  was  the  thought  that  you'd  do  it — the  thought 
that  you  had  forgotten  that  I  was  a  Blount,  and 
your  son." 

Again  the  older  man  nodded  gravely.  "How 
come  you  to  find  out,  Evan,  boy?"  he  asked. 

"It  was  when  Hathaway  had  been  given  his 
chance  at  me.  He  opened  the  cesspool  for  me,  as 
you  meant  he  should  when  you  sent  him  to  me. 


210    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

From  your  point  of  view,  I  suppose  it  was  necessary 
that  I  should  be  shown.  You  knew  what  I  was 
saying  and  doing;  how  I  was  taking  it  for  granted 
that  the  railroad  was  going  in  clean-handed,  and  the 
one  ray  of  comfort  in  the  whole  miserable  business 
is  the  fact  that  you  cared  enough  to  want  to  give 
me  a  glimpse  of  the  real  thing  that  was  hiding  be 
hind  all  my  brave  talk.  But  I  don't  think  you 
counted  fully  upon  the  effect  it  would  have  upon  me." 

"What  was  the  effect,  son?" 

"At  first,  it  made  me  want  to  throw  up  the  fight 
and  run  away  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  It  seemed 
as  if  I  didn't  have  anybody  to  turn  to.  You  were 
in  it,  and  Gantry  was  in  it — and  Gantry's  superiors 
and  mine.  That  evening  I  borrowed  one  of  your 
cars  and  drove  out  to  Wartrace.  I  meant  to  have 
it  out  with  you,  and  then  to  throw  up  my  hands 
and  quit." 

"But  you  didn't  do  either  one,"  said  the  father 
tentatively. 

"No.  Nothing  went  right  that  day,  until  just  at 
the  last.  When  I  was  about  to  give  up  and  go  to  bed, 
Patricia  came  into  the  smoking-room.  I  had  to 
talk  to  somebody,  so  I  talked  to  her;  told  her  where 
I  had  landed."  ' 

"And  she  advised  you  to  throw  up  your  hands?" 

"You  don't  know  Patricia.  She  put  a  heart  into 
my  body  and  blood  into  my  veins.  What  she  said 
to  me  that  night  is  what  has  kept  me  going,  dad — 
what  has  made  me  drive  this  fight  for  a  clean  elec 
tion  on  the  part  of  the  railroad  company  home  to 


SWORD-PLAY  211 

the  hilt.  I  have  driven  it  home.  There  will  be  no 
crooked  deals  on  the  part  of  the  railroad  company 
this  time." 

The  senator  looked  up  quickly.  "  That's  a  mighty 
good  stout  thing  to  say,"  he  remarked,  adding:  "I 
reckon  you're  not  saying  it  without  having  the  right 
and  proper  club  hid  out  somewhere  where  you  can 
lay  hands  on  it?" 

Blount  tapped  his  coat-pocket.  "I  have  the  club 
right  here — -documentary  evidence  that  will  rip  this 
State  wide  open  and  send  a  lot  of  people  to  the  pen 
itentiary.  I've  told  Gantry  to  pass  the  word:  a 
clean  sheet,  or  I  go  over  to  the  other  side  and  tell 
what  I  know.  And  that  brings  me  to  the  thing  that 
I've  got  to  say  to  you,  dad— the  thing  that  made  me 
hope  I'd  find  you  here  to-night.  After  I'd  got  my 
battle-word  from  Patricia,  I  had  a  jolt  that  was 
worse  than  the  other.  When  I  pulled  the  gun  on 
Gantry,  he  told  me  that  I  couldn't  shoot  without 
killing  you;  that  you  were  just  as  deeply  involved 
as  any  one  of  the  railroad  officials.  Is  that  the 
truth?" 

The  senator  had  pushed  his  chair  back  and  was 
burying  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

" You've  come  to  try  to  haul  me  out  of  the  fire?" 
he  inquired,  ignoring  the  direct  question. 

"I've  come  to  ask  you,  first,  if  it  is  possible  for 
you  to  stand  from  under.  Can  you?" 

"Oh,  yes;   I  reckon  I  could  dodge,  if  I  had  to." 

"Then  do  it,  and  do  it  quickly,  dad!  As  there  is 
a  God  above  us,  I'm  going  to  push  this  thing  through 


212    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

to  the  bitter  end.  To-morrow  morning  I  shall  give 
Gantry  his  time  limit.  If  the  time  goes  by,  leaving 
the  house-cleaning  still  undone,  I  shall  keep  my 
promise  to  the  letter.  You  know,  and  I  know,  what 
will  happen  after  that." 

"Yes;  I  reckon  I  know,"  was  the  half -absent 
reply. 

Blount  threw  his  napkin  aside  and  glanced  at  his 
watch. 

"I've  got  to  go  back  to  the  office  and  work  a 
while,"  he  said.  And  then:  "I  feel  better  for  hav 
ing  had  this  talk  with  you,  dad.  I'm  sorry  you  are 
finding  it  necessary  to  fight  me,  and  a  thousand  times 
sorrier  that  Fve  got  to  fight  you.  But  I  can't  give 
ground  now,  and  still  be  a  man  and  your  son.  Think 
it  over  and  dodge.  It'll  break  my  heart  a  second 
time  if  I  have  to  pull  the  other  fellow's  house  down 
and  bury  you  in  the  wreck." 

For  some  little  time  after  his  son  had  left  the 
table  and  the  private  dining-room,  the  Honorable 
Senator  Sage-Brush  sat  absently  toying  with  his 
dessert-spoon.  When  he  rose  to  go  out,  the  battle 
light  in  the  gray  eyes  was  the  signal  which  not  even 
his  most  faithful  henchmen  could  always  interpret; 
but  it  was  a  signal  which  all  of  them  knew  by  sight, 
and  one  which  many  of  them  feared. 


XVI 

THE  SAFE-BLOWER 

ABOUT  the  time  that  Evan  Blount  was  finishing 
the  fourth  week  of  the  campaign  of  education,  the 
senator's  wife  began  to  detect  signs  of  country  weari 
ness  in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Patricia  Aimers. 

"When  you  are  tired  of  the  out-door  bignesses, 
you  have  only  to  say  the  word,"  she  told  the  pro 
fessor's  daughter  one  morning  after  they  had  driven 
to  Lost  River  Canyon  and  back  in  the  small  car. 
"As  you  have  doubtless  discovered,  the  senator  and 
I  live  either  here  or  at  the  capital  indifferently  dur 
ing  the  season,  and  we  shall  be  only  too  glad  to 
entertain  you  in  town  whenever  you  feel  like  going." 

To  similar  proposals  made  earlier  Miss  Anners 
had  always  returned  prompt  refusals.  But  for  a 
week  or  more  some  impulse  which  she  had  not  taken 
the  trouble  to  analyze  seemed  to  be  drawing  her  to 
ward  the  city.  The  mesa  roads  were  just  as  inviting, 
and  the  free  pleasures  of  motoring,  in  a  country  where 
speed  restrictions  were  conspicuous  only  by  their 
absence,  were  just  as  keen.  But  now  Patricia  con 
fessed  to  a  restless  longing  for  the  sight  of  city  streets 
and  the  brabble  of  city  noises. 

213 


214    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Only  you  mustn't  consider  us,  or  me,  so  much 
as  you  do,  Mrs.  Blount,"  she  protested.  "I  have 
a  dreadful  suspicion  that  we  have  already  inter 
fered  shamefully  with  your  autumn  plans.  You  are 
simply  too  kind  and  too  hospitable  to  admit  it." 

"You  have  interfered  with  nothing,"  was  the 
ready  assurance.  "We  were  not  going  anywhere, 
or  thinking  of  going  anywhere.  No  inducement 
that  was  ever  invented  would  take  the  senator  away 
from  his  own  State  in  a  political  year,  and  your 
coming  has  been  a  blessing.  But  for  the  good  ex 
cuse  to  bring  your  father  out  here  to  the  fossil-beds, 
we  should  have  been  mewed  up  in  the  Inter-Moun 
tain  Hotel  from  the  firing  of  the  opening  gun  to  the 
day  after  election.  But  that  isn't  what  I  meant  to 
say.  You  are  tired  of  so  much  country;  I  can  read 
the  call  of  the  city  in  your  eyes — and  they  are  very 
pretty  eyes,  my  dear.  Shall  I  telephone  the  sena 
tor  that  we  are  coming  in  this  afternoon  to  stay 
awhile?" 

"I  shall  be  delighted,"  said  Patricia,  and  the  eyes, 
which  were  not  only  pretty  but  exceedingly  apt  to 
tell  tales,  confirmed  the  eager  assent.  Then  she 
added:  "Now  that  daddy  has  his  box  of  books 
from  the  university  library,  I  doubt  if  he  will  know 
that  we  are  gone." 

On  their  first  day  in  the  capital  Evan  was  away, 
but  he  returned  the  following  morning  and  Mrs. 
Blount  promptly  captured  him  for  a  theatre  box- 
party  which  she  was  inviting  for  the  same  evening. 
In  Mrs.  Honoria's  orderly  scheme  Blount  was  predes- 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  215 

tined  to  go,  though  he  was  allowed  to  believe  that 
his  acceptance  was  of  free  will.  Notwithstanding 
the  lapse  of  time  and  Mrs.  Honoria's  uniform  kind 
ness,  he  was  still  unreasonably  prejudiced,  and  with 
the  prejudice  he  was  now  admitting  a  feeling  akin 
to  jealousy.  It  was  evident  that  Patricia's  admira 
tion  for  his  father  extended  over  to  his  father's  wife; 
and  meaning  consistently  to  dislike  Mrs.  Honoria, 
he  was  irrational  enough  to  want  Patricia  to  dislike 
her,  too. 

The  box-party  proved  to  be  a  more  formal  affair 
than  he  had  anticipated,  since  it  was  large  enough 
to  fill  two  of  the  open  dress-circle  boxes.  Gantry 
was  included,  and  so  were  the  Weatherfords — father, 
mother,  daughters,  and  son.  These,  with  the  Gor 
dons  and  a  Denver  man  whose  name  of  Critchett 
Blount  was  not  quite  sure  that  he  caught  in  the 
introduction,  filled  Mrs.  Honoria's  list.  In  the  seat 
ing  Blount  meant  to  make  sure  of  having  a  meas 
urably  undisturbed  evening  with  Patricia.  But  fate, 
or  a  designing  hostess,  intervened,  and  he  found 
himself  cornered  between  Mrs.  Weatherford  and  her 
younger  daughter,  with  the  square-shouldered  "  Para- 
mounter"  candidate  for  governor  strengthening  the 
barrier  which  separated  him  from  Miss  Anners. 

Blount  had  met  Gordon  socially  a  number  of 
times,  and  in  the  intervals  allowed  him  by  Mrs. 
Weatherford  he  was  silently  studying  the  face  of 
the  big  man  who,  singularly  enough,  as  the  student 
thought,  was  thus  identifying  himself  publicly  as  a 
friend  of  the  boss.  True,  Blount  did  not  forget  his 


2i6    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

father's  warm  commendation  of  Gordon  in  that  ear 
liest  political  talk  on  the  Quaretaro  Canyon  road, 
but  that  was  before  the  lines  had  been  drawn  and  the 
gage  of  battle  thrown  down  by  the  allied  forces  of 
the  machine  and  the  railroad.  Now,  with  the  battle 
drawing  to  its  close,  Blount  thought  that  nothing 
could  be  more  certain  than  the  fact  that  his  father 
and  his  father's  organization  were  joining  hands  with 
the  railroad  oligarchy  to  slaughter  Gordon  at  the 
polls. 

Putting  aside  the  wonder  that  Gordon  should  be 
accepting  Mrs.  Honoria's  hospitality,  Blount  fell  to 
contrasting  the  strong,  large-featured  face  of  the  Mis 
sion  Hills  ranchman  with  that  of  Reynolds,  the  oppo 
sition  candidate.  Though  he  was  himself  on  the  cor 
poration  campaigning  staff,  Blount  could  not  help 
admitting  that  the  comparison  was  not  favorable  to 
Reynolds.  His  first  impression  of  the  round-faced, 
portly  gentleman  who  was  standing  firmly  upon  what 
he  was  pleased  to  call  a  platform  of  law  and  order — a 
man  who  was  Gordon's  opposite  in  every  feature  and 
characteristic — had  been  unfavorable.  He  had  been 
saying  to  himself,  since,  that  Reynolds's  face,  in  spite 
of  its  heavy  jaw  and  prominent  eyes,  was  the  face 
of  a  time-server. 

Another  point  of  difference  between  the  two  men 
counted  for  much.  Reynolds  wanted  the  office,  and 
was  spending  money  liberally  to  get  it,  while  Gor 
don  had  accepted  the  nomination  reluctantly. 
Throughout  the  hot  campaign  he  had  refused  to 
stump  the  State  for  himself  or  his  party,  and  was 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  217 

said  to  be  holding  steadfastly  aloof  in  the  bargain 
ing  and  dickering.  Weighing  the  two  men  one 
against  the  other — Reynolds  was  sitting  in  an  ad 
jacent  box  with  Kittredge  and  Bentley  and  two 
other  railroad  officials — Blount  admitted  a  twinge 
of  regret  that  chance,  or  his  convictions,  had  made 
him  a  partisan  of  the  weaker. 

Having  been  lost  in  the  shuffle,  as  he  expressed  it, 
Blount  made  the  most  of  these  reflective  excursions 
during  the  period  of  the  box-party  captivity.  From 
the  rising  of  the  curtain  to  the  going  down  thereof 
the  Weatherfords,  mother  and  daughter,  kept  him 
from  exchanging  so  much  as  a  word  with  Patricia, 
whom  Gantry  was  shamelessly  monopolizing.  But 
on  the  short  return  walk  to  the  hotel,  Blount  as 
serted  his  rights  and  gave  Patricia  his  arm. 

"I  think  you  owe  me  an  abject  apology,"  was  the 
way  she  began  on  him,  when  they  had  gained  such 
privacy  as  the  crowded  sidewalk  conferred. 

"Consider  it  made,  and  then  tell  me  what  for," 
he  rejoined,  striving,  man-fashion,  to  catch  step 
with  her  mood. 

"For  making  us  leave  that  dear,  delightful,  out- 
of-date,  and  out-of-place  Georgian  mansion  in  the 
hills  and  come  to  town  when  we  want  to  get  a  sight 
of  your  face." 

"If  anybody  else  should  say  a  thing  like  that,  I'd 
blush  and  call  it  a  compliment,"  he  retorted.  Her 
near  presence  seemed  to  lift  the  burden  he  was  car 
rying,  and  it  was  good  to  be  light-hearted  again,  if 
only  for  the  passing  moment. 


218    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"It  wasn't  meant  for  a  compliment/'  she  returned, 
with  the  straightforward  sincerity  which  Blount  had 
always  been  fond  of  likening  to  a  cup  of  cold  water 
on  a  thirsty  day.  "  Consider  a  moment.  You  come 
to  me  with  a  really  harrowing  story  of  your  new 
experiences,  and  just  as  I  am  beginning  to  get  in 
terested  we  are  interrupted.  In  the  morning,  at 
some  perfectly  impossible  hour,  off  you  go,  and  we 
hear  no  more  of  you  for  weeks  and  weeks.  What 
have  you  been  doing?" 

"I  have  been  doing  precisely  what  you  told  me 
to  do;  preaching  the  gospel  of  honesty  and  fair  deal 
ing,  and  trying  my  level  best  to  make  other  people 
practise  it." 

"You  have  been  successful?"  she  asked  quickly. 

"Reasonably  so  in  the  preaching,  since  that  de 
pended  solely  upon  me.  As  to  the  other,  I  don't 
know.  Sometimes  I'm  credulous  enough  to  believe 
that  the  house-cleaners  are  honestly  at  work,  as  they 
say  they  are,  and  at  other  times  I'm  afraid  they  are 
only  putting  up  a  bluff  to  mislead  me.  Some  day, 
perhaps,  I  may  tell  you  how  far  I  have  had  to  go 
into  the  'practical-polities'  armory  to  get  my 
weapons." 

There  was  still  a  half-square  of  the  sidewalk  pri 
vacy  available,  and  she  made  what  seemed  to  be 
the  most  necessary  use  of  it. 

"And  your  father,  Evan;  are  you  coming  to  un 
derstand  him  any  better?" 

He  shook  his  head  despondently.  "No;  or  rather 
yes.  I  might  say  that  I  am  coming  to  understand 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  219 

him — or  his  methods — only  too  well.  The  only  way 
we  can  keep  from  quarrelling  now  is  to  banish  poli 
tics  when  we  are  together." 

"I  am  sorry/'  she  said,  and  the  sorrow  was  em 
phatic  in  her  tone.  "As  I  have  said  before,  you 
don't  understand  him.  You  are  judging  him  by 
standards  which,  however  just  and  true  they  may 
be,  are  peculiarly  your  own  standards.  I  know  you 
can  be  broad  for  others  when  you  try.  Can't  you 
be  broad  for  him?" 

It  was  good  to  hear  her  defend  his  father.  It  was 
what  he  would  have  wished  his  wife  to  do.  Suddenly 
there  arose  within  him  a  huge  reluctance  to  lessen 
or  to  weaken  in  any  way  her  trust  in  David  Blount. 

"Let  us  say  that  the  fault  is  mine,"  he  interposed 
hastily.  "God  forbid  that  I  should  be  the  means 
of  making  you  think  less  of  him  in  any  respect." 

"You  couldn't  do  that,  Evan.  He  is  simply  a 
grand  old  man — the  first  I  have  ever  known  for  whom 
the  hackneyed  phrase  seemed  to  have  been  made," 
she  asserted  warmly.  "If  he  has  faults,  I  am  sure 
they  are  nothing  more  than  gigantic  virtues— the 
faults  of  a  man  who  is  too  strong  and  too  magnani 
mous  to  be  little  in  any  respect." 

The  final  half-square  lay  behind  them,  and  Mrs. 
Honoria  and  the  senator,  Gantry,  Gordon  and  his 
wife,  and  the  two  Weatherfords,  with  one  of  the 
marriageable  daughters,  were  at  the  cafe  door  wait 
ing  for  the  laggards.  Being  in  no  proper  frame  of 
mind  to  enjoy  a  theatre  supper  with  another  Weather- 
ford  attack  as  the  possible  penalty,  Blount  reluctantly 


220    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

surrendered  Patricia  to  Gantry,  made  his  excuses, 
and  went  to  smoke  a  bedtime  pipe  in  the  homelike 
and  democratic  lobby. 

With  Patricia  in  town  the  "silver-tongued  spell 
binder  of  Quaretaro  Mesa,"  as  The  Daily  Capital 
called  the  railroad  company's  campaign  field-officer, 
would  have  been  glad  to  evade  some  of  the  speak 
ing  appointments;  but  since  his  engagements  had 
been  made  some  days  in  advance,  he  was  obliged  to  go. 

On  his  return  to  the  capital  he  was  delighted  to 
find  the  party  of  three  still  occupying  the  private 
dining-room  suite  at  the  Inter-Mountain.  Arri 
ving  on  a  morning  train,  he  was  permitted  to  make 
the  party  of  three  a  party  of  four  at  the  breakfast- 
table;  and  with  Patricia  sitting  opposite  he  was  able 
to  forget  the  strenuosities  for  a  restful  half -hour. 

Later,  when  he  went  to  his  offices  in  the  Temple 
Court  Building,  the  strenuosities  reasserted  them 
selves  with  emphasis.  Though  he  found  his  desk 
closed,  and  was  reasonably  certain  that  he  had  in 
his  pocket  the  only  key  that  would  unlock  it,  he 
found  his  papers  scattered  in  confusion  under  the 
roll-top.  A  touch  upon  the  electric  button  brought 
the  stenographer  from  the  anteroom. 

"Who's  been  into  my  desk,  Collins?"  he  de 
manded,  pointing  to  the  confusion  and  scrutinizing 
the  face  of  the  young  man  sharply  for  signs  of  guilt. 

"Goodness  gracious!  How  could  anybody  get 
into  it  when  you've  got  the  only  key,  Mr.  Blount?" 
stammered  the  clerk.  Then  he  went  on,  parrot-like: 
"I've  been  putting  the  letters  and  telegrams  through 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  221 

the  letter-slit,  as  you  told  me  to,  and  I've  kept  the 
private  office  locked." 

"Nevertheless  it  is  very  evident  that  somebody 
has  been  here,"  said  Blount.  Then  he  had  a  sudden 
shock  and  wheeled  shortly  upon  the  stenographer. 
,  "  Collins,  what  did  you  do  with  that  packet  of  papers 
I  gave  you  last  Monday — the  one  I  told  you  to  put 
away  in  the  safe?" 

"I  did  just  what  you  told  me  to;  put  it  in  the 
inner  cash-box,  and  put  the  key  of  the  cash-box  on 
your  desk.  Didn't  you  get  it?" 

Blount  felt  in  his  pockets  and  found  the  key,  which 
he  handed  to  Collins.  "  Go  and  get  that  packet  and 
bring  it  to  me,"  he  directed.  The  shock  was  begin 
ning  to  subside  a  little  by  now,  and  he  sat  down  to 
bring  something  like  order  out  of  the  confusion  on 
the  desk.  At  first,  he  had  thought  that  the  sheaf 
of  evidence  letters  which  gave  him  the  strangle-hold 
upon  Gantry  and  the  lawbreakers  had  been  left  in 
a  pigeonhole  of  the  desk.  Then  he  remembered  hav 
ing  given  it  to  Collins  to  put  away. 

A  minute  or  two  later  it  occurred  to  him  that  the 
stenographer  was  taking  a  long  time  for  a  short  er 
rand.  Rising  silently,  he  crossed  the  room  and 
reached  for  the  knob  of  the  door  of  communication. 
In  the  act  he  saw  that  the  door  was  ajar,  and 
through  the  crack  he  saw  Collins  standing  before 
the  opened  safe.  The  clerk  was  running  his  tongue 
along  the  flap  of  a  large  envelope,  preparatory  to 
sealing  it.  Blount's  first  impulse  was  to  break  in 
with  a  sharp  command.  Then  he  reconsidered  and 


222    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

went  back  to  his  desk;  was  still  busy  at  it  when 
Collins  came  in  and  laid  the  freshly  sealed  envelope 
before  him. 

"That  isn't  the  packet  I  gave  you/'  said  Blount 
curtly. 

The  clerk  looked  away.  "You  meant  those  let 
ters,  didn't  you?"  he  queried.  "The  rubber  band 
broke  and  I  put  them  in  an  envelope." 

"When?"  snapped  Blount. 

The  young  man  faced  around  again  and  the  inno 
cence  in  his  look  disarmed  the  questioner. 

"When?  Just  now.  That's  what  made  me  so 
long — I  couldn't  find  an  envelope  big  enough." 

Blount  took  up  the  letter  opener  and  slipped  the 
blade  under  the  flap  of  the  envelope.  If  he  had 
looked  up  at  the  stenographer  then  he  would  have 
seen  the  mask  of  innocence  slip  aside  to  discover  a 
face  ashen  with  terror.  But  whatever  the  short 
hand  man  had  to  fear  from  the  opening  of  the  lately 
sealed  envelope  was  postponed  by  the  incoming  of 
Ackerton,  the  working  head  of  the  legal  department, 
with  a  damage  suit  to  discuss  with  his  chief.  Blount 
thrust  the  big  envelope  into  his  pocket  unopened, 
and  later  in  the  day,  when  he  went  around  to  his 
bank  to  put  the  evidence  letters  into  his  safe-de 
posit  box,  the  incident  of  the  morning  had  lost  its 
significance  so  completely,  or  had  been  so  deeply 
buried  under  other  and  more  important  matters, 
that  he  deposited  the  packet  without  examining  it. 

The  evening  of  this  same  day  there  was  a  dance 
given  by  the  Gordons  in  the  ranchman  candidate's 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  223 

big  house  opposite  the  Weatherfords'  in  Mesa  Circle, 
and  Blount  went,  hoping  that  Patricia  would  be 
there.  She  was  there;  and  in  the  heart  of  the  eve 
ning,  when  Blount  had  persuaded  her  to  sit  out  a 
dance  with  him  in  a  corner  of  the  homelike  re 
ception-hall,  he  began  to  pry  at  a  little  stone  of 
stumbling  which  was  threatening  to  grow  too  large 
to  be  easily  rolled  aside. 

"I'm  hunting  a  conscience  to-night,"  he  said, 
without  preface.  "Have  you  got  one  that  you 
could  lend  me?" 

She  laughed  lightly. 

"You  told  me  once  that  I  had  the  New  England 
conscience — which  was  the  same  as  saying  that  I 
had  enough  for  my  own  needs  and  a  surplus  to  pass 
around  among  my  friends.  What  bad  thing  have 
you  been  doing  now?" 

He  made  a  wry  face.  "It's  the  ' practical  poli 
ties'  again.  Suppose  I  say  that  I  have  obtained 
positive  evidence  of  a  crime  against  the  laws  of  the 
State  and  the  nation.  How  far  am  I  justified  in 
suppressing,  for  a  perfectly  right  and  proper  end, 
this  evidence  which  would  send  a  lot  of  people  to 
jail?" 

"Mercy!"  she  exclaimed;  "how  you  can  bring  a 
thunderbolt  crashing  down  out  of  a  perfectly  clear 
sky!  Is  it  ever  justifiable  to  shield  criminals  and 
criminality?" 

"That  is  just  what  I'm  trying  to  find  out,"  he 
persisted.  "At  the  present  moment  I  am  shielding 
a  good  handful  of  open  lawbreakers.  Some  of  them 


224    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

know  what  I'm  doing,  and  some  of  them  don't. 
Those  who  know  have  been  told  that  they  must  be 
good  or  I'll  publish  the  evidence,  and  they've  prom 
ised  to  be  good  if  I  won't  publish  it.  At  the  time 
I  didn't  question  my  right  to  make  such  a  bargain, 
but- 

"But  now  you  are  questioning  it?  What  would 
happen  if  you  should  tell  what  you  know?" 

"  Chaos,"  he  replied  briefly.  " 

"May  I  ask  who  is  implicated?" 

"A  good  half  of  the  corporation  officials  in  the 
State,  and  some  few  outside  of  it." 

"Mercy!"  she  said  again.  And  then:  "It's  too 
big  for  me,  Evan.  I  can  only  go  back  to  first  prin 
ciples  and  ask  if  it  is  ever  justifiable  to  do  evil  that 
good  may  come." 

"If  you  put  it  that  way,  I've  made  myself  parti- 
ceps  criminis"  he  said  gravely.  "I  have  given  my 
word  to  keep  still  if  the  lawbreaking  deals  are  broken 
off  at  once  and  in  good  faith.  Beyond  that,  I  can't 
help  knowing  that  the  exposure  which  I  have  threat 
ened  to  make,  and  could  make,  would  practically 
turn  the  people  of  this  State  into  a  mob." 

She  was  shaking  her  head  determinedly.  "  I  can't 
help  you  this  time,  Evan;  truly  I  can't."  Then, 
in  sudden  appeal:  "Why  won't  you  go  to  your 
father?  He  could  tell  you  what  to  do  and  how  to 
do  it,  and  his  judgment  would  be  too  big  and  just 
to  stumble  over  the  tangling  little  moralities." 

Blount  smiled. 

"What  if  I  should  tell  you  that  my  father  is  more 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  225 

or  less  involved,  Patricia?  I  don't  know  precisely 
how  much  or  how  little,  but  I  am  assured,  by  those 
who  claim  to  know,  that  he,  too,  would  go  down  in 
the  general  wreck." 

"I  can't  believe  it!"  she  protested,  in  generous 
loyalty.  "These  people,  whoever  they  are,  are  de 
ceiving  you  to  shelter  themselves.  Have  you  ever 
spoken  to  your  father  about  this?" 

"Yes,  once;  one  evening  when  we  were  dining 
together  I  told  him  what  I  had,  and  what  use  I 
should  make  of  it  if  all  other  means  should  fail. 
Also,  I  advised  him  to  dodge." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"That  is  the  discouraging  part  of  it.  I  was  ho 
ping  against  hope  that  he  would  tell  me  to  go  ahead; 
that  he  would  say  that  he  wasn't  involved.  But, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  didn't  say  much  of  anything. 
I'm  horribly  afraid  that  his  silence  meant  all  that 
I've  been  trying  to  believe  it  didn't  mean." 

She  was  slowly  opening  and  closing  her  fan,  as  if 
she  were  trying  to  gain  time. 

"I  can  only  tell  you  again  what  I  told  you  at 
first,"  she  said  at  length.  "You  must  be  bigger 
than  all  these  hampering  circumstances;  bigger  than 
the  little  moralities,  if  need  be.  You  can  be,  Evan; 
you've  given  splendid  proof  of  it  thus  far,  and  I'm 
proud — just  as  proud  as  I  can  be 

Blount  felt  as  if  he  could,  joyously  and  entirely 
without  scruple,  have  brained  young  Gordon,  to 
whom  the  next  dance  belonged,  and  who  came  just  at 
this  climaxing  moment  to  claim  Patricia.  But  there 


226    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

was  no  help  for  it,  short  of  a  cold-blooded  and  rather 
embarrassing  deed  of  violence,  and  the  hard-won 
confidence  ended  pretty  much  where  it  had  begun. 

When  he  left  the  Gordon  house,  which  was  far 
out  in  the  northeastern  residence  suburb,  Blount 
meant  to  go  directly  to  the  hotel  and  to  bed.  He 
had  been  losing  much  sleep  in  the  activities  of  the 
campaign,  and  the  loss  was  beginning  to  tell  upon 
him.  But  as  the  trolley-car  was  passing  the  Temple 
Court  Building  he  made  sure  that  he  saw  a  dim 
light  illuminating  the  windows  of  his  upper-floor  of 
fice.  With  all  his  suspicions  of  the  morning  reawa 
kened,  he  dropped  from  the  car,  dashed  into  the 
building,  and  took  the  all-night  elevator  for  his  office 
floor. 

The  sleepy  elevator-man  had  to  be  shaken  awake, 
and  when  he  had  set  the  car  in  motion  he  let  it  run 
past  the  designated  floor.  Blount  swore  impatiently, 
and  instead  of  waiting  to  be  carried  back,  darted 
out  and  ran  to  the  stairway.  When  he  reached  the 
lower  corridor  and  was  hurrying  toward  his  suite  in 
the  corner  of  the  building,  there  was  a  dull  crash,  as 
of  a  muffled  explosion,  and  two  or  three  of  the  glass 
doors  in  the  street-fronting  suite  were  shattered. 
Blount  quickened  his  pace  to  a  run,  let  himself  in 
by  means  of  his  latch-key,  and,  cautiously  opening 
his  desk,  groped  in  an  inner  drawer  for  the  re 
volver  which  Gantry  had  persuaded  him  to  buy  as 
a  part  of  the  office  furnishings. 

With  the  weapon  in  hand,  he  pushed  through  the 
unlatched  door  into  Collins's  room.  There  was  an 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  227 

acrid  odor  of  dynamite  fumes  in  the  air,  and  when 
he  pressed  on  to  the  third  room  of  the  suite  the  gases 
were  stifling.  His  first  act  was  to  feel  for  the 
switch  and  cut  in  the  electric  lights.  The  third  room, 
which  had  doors  of  communication  with  his  own 
office  and  Collins's,  was  a  wreck.  Desks  were 
broken  open,  and  the  safe-door  had  been  blown  from 
its  hinges. 

Blount  saw  the  figure  of  a  small  man  with  his  cap 
pulled  down  over  his  ears  bending  over  the  wrecked 
cash-box.  At  the  upblazing  of  the  ceiling  lights, 
the  man  sprang  to  his  feet  and  fled,  going  out  through 
the  door  by  which  Blount  had  just  entered,  and  snap 
ping  the  light-switch  as  he  passed  to  leave  the  rooms 
in  darkness. 

Blount  was  cursing  his  own  lack  of  presence  of 
mind  when  he  turned  to  follow  the  escaping  burglar. 
In  the  darkness  he  fell  over  a  chair,  and  by  the  time 
he  had  disentangled  himself  and  had  reached  the 
corridor  the  safe-blower  was  gone.  Racing  to  the 
elevator,  Blount  rang  the  bell  until  the  sleepy  car- 
tender  set  the  machinery  in  motion  and  lifted  him 
self  to  the  floor  of  happenings.  Here  the  incident 
ended  abruptly,  so  far  as  any  helpful  discoveries 
were  concerned.  The  elevator-man  had  carried  no 
one  down,  and  he  confessed  shamefacedly  that  he 
had  again  been  asleep,  and  could  not  say  whether 
or  not  anybody  had  descended  the  stair  which  cir 
cled  the  elevator-shaft. 

Blount  went  back  to  his  office,  turned  in  a  police 
alarm,  and  waited  until  a  policeman  came  from  the 


228    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

nearest  station.  Then  he  went  to  report  the  safe- 
blowing  in  person  to  the  night  captain  on  duty  in 
the  basement  of  the  City  Hall.  A  drowsy  clerk  took 
notes  of  the  story,  and  the  night  captain  contented 
himself  with  asking  a  single  question. 

"Do  you  know  how  much  you  lost,  Mr.  Blount?" 

"Nothing  of  any  great  consequence,  I  imagine," 
said  Blount,  remembering,  with  an  inward  thrill 
of  thankfulness,  the  morning  impulse  which  had 
prompted  him  to  transfer  the  one  thing  of  inesti 
mable  consequence  to  the  security  of  the  bank  safe- 
deposit  box.  Then  he  added:  "There  was  a  little 
money  in  the  box,  and  some  papers  of  no  especial 
value  to  anybody.  Just  the  same,  captain,  I  want 
that  man  caught." 

"We'll  catch  him,  come  morning,"  was  the  as 
surance,  and  then  Blount  went  away  and  carried 
out  his  original  intention  of  going  to  the  Inter- 
Mountain  and  to  bed. 

To  bed;  but,  for  a  long  hour  after  the  post-midnight 
quiet  had  settled  down  upon  the  great  hostelry,  not 
to  sleep.  If  he  had  asked  himself  why  he  could  not 
close  his  eyes  and  take  the  needed  rest,  the  exciting 
incident  in  which  he  had  lately  been  an  actor  would 
have  offered  a  sufficient  answer.  But  in  reality  the 
sharpened  spur  of  wakef  ulness  penetrated  much  more 
deeply.  Beyond  all  doubt  or  shadow  of  doubt,  it 
was  the  sinister,  many-armed  machine  which  had 
reached  out  to  seize  and  destroy  the  evidence  against 
its  allies  and  fellow  conspirators,  the  lawbreaking 
railroad  company  and  the  vote-selling  corporations. 


THE  SAFE-BLOWER  229 

And,  again  beyond  doubt,  he  made  sure,  it  was  his 
own  boast  made  to  his  father  which  had  been  passed 
on  to  tell  the  sham  burglar  where  to  look  and  what 
to  look  for. 


XVII 
ON  THE  KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH  GODS 

IN  the  evening  of  the  day  following  the  safe- 
blowing  in  Blount's  office,  a  one-car  train,  running  as 
second  section  of  the  Overland,  slipped  unostenta 
tiously  into  the  capital  railroad  yard.  With  as  little 
stir  as  it  had  made  in  its  arrival,  the  single-car  train 
took  a  siding  below  the  freight  station,  where  it  would 
be  concealed  from  the  prying  eyes  of  any  chance 
prowler  from  the  newspaper  offices. 

Coincident  with  the  side-tracking  O'Brien,  the 
vice-president's  stenographer,  dropped  from  the 
step  of  the  car  and  went  in  search  of  a  telephone. 
When  O'Brien  was  safely  out  of  the  way,  a  small 
man,  clean-shaven  and  alert  in  his  movements, 
whipped  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  nearest  string  of 
box-cars,  pushed  brusquely  past  the  guarding  porter, 
and  presented  himself  at  the  desk  in  the  roomy  of 
fice  compartment  of  the  private  car. 

The  vice-president  looked  up  and  nodded.  "How 
are  you,  Gibbert  ?  "  he  said,  and  then :  "  You  may  con 
dense  your  report.  I  have  seen  the  newspapers. 
In  passing  I  may  say  that  it  isn't  much  to  your 
credit  that  you  had  to  fall  back  upon  the  methods 
of  the  yeggmen." 

230 


ON  THE   KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH  GODS     231 

"There  wasn't  any  other  way/7  protested  the 
small  man.  "The  papers  were  locked  up  in  the 
cash-box  of  the  safe,  and  young  Blount  carried  the 
only  key." 

"It  was  crude;  not  at  all  worthy  of  a  man  of 
your  ability,  Gibbert.  And  if  the  newspapers  tell 
it  straight,  you  came  near  being  caught.  How  did 
that  happen?" 

"  Blount  went  to  a  ball,  and  I  shadowed  him. 
His  girl  was  there,  and  it  looked  like  a  safe  bet 
that  he'd  stay  to  see  the  lights  put  out.  But  he 
didn't." 

"Well,  never  mind;  you  got  the  papers,  I  sup 
pose?" 

The  company  detective  drew  a  thick  envelope 
from  his  pocket  and  laid  it  upon  the  desk.  The 
vice-president  tore  it  open  and  read  rapidly  through 
the  file  of  letters  it  had  enclosed,  tearing  them  one 
by  one  from  the  hold  of  the  brass  fastener  at  the 
upper  left-hand  corner  as  he  glanced  them  over. 
"The  chuckle-headed  fools!"  he  gritted,  apostro 
phizing  the  writers  of  the  letters.  And  then:  "Gib 
bert,  I'd  like  to  go  into  this  a  little  deeper,  if  we  had 
time;  I'd  like  to  know  why  in  hell  every  man  in 
this  State  with  whom  we've  had  a  private  business 
arrangement  found  it  necessary  to  spread  the  details 
out  on  paper  and  send  them  to  young  Blount !  Here; 
burn  these  things  as  I  hand  them  to  you." 

The  small  man  struck  a  match  and,  using  the 
wide-mouthed  metal  cuspidor  for  an  ash-pan,  lighted 
the  letters  one  at  a  time  as  they  were  given  to  him. 


232    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

When  the  cinder  skeleton  of  the  final  sheet  had  been 
crushed  into  ashes,  he  rose  from  his  knees  and 
reached  for  his  hat. 

"Any  other  orders?"  he  asked. 

"No;  nothing  more.  You  are  reasonably  sure 
that  you  haven't  been  recognized  here  by  any  of 
our  local  people?" 

"I've  kept  the  'make-up'  on  most  of  the  time. 
I've  been  in  Mr.  Gantry's  office  a  couple  of  times, 
and  in  Mr.  Kittredge's  once,  and  neither  of  them 
caught  on  to  me." 

"That's  good.  You'd  better  go  now.  O'Brien 
has  gone  after  Gantry  and  Kittredge,  and  I  don't 
care  to  have  them  find  you  here.  Better  take  the 
first  train  back  to  Chicago.  These  mutton-headed 
police  here  might  possibly  get  on  your  track,  and 
we  don't  want  to  have  to  explain  anything  to 
them." 

Five  minutes  after  the  small  man  had  dropped 
from  the  step  of  the  "008,"  to  disappear  in  the  box 
car  shadows,  Gantry  and  Kittredge  came  down  the 
yard  and  entered  the  private  car.  Again  the  vice- 
president  said,  "How  are  you?"  and  nodded  toward 
the  nearest  chairs.  "Sit  down;  I'll  be  through  in  a 
minute,"  and  he  went  on  reading  the  file  of  papers 
taken  up  at  the  departure  of  the  detective.  At  the 
end  of  the  minute  he  shot  a  question  at  the  two 
who  were  waiting. 

"You  got  my  message?" 

Gantry  answered  for  himself  and  the  superintend 
ent.  "Yes.  Your  orders  have  been  carried  out. 


ON  THE  KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH   GODS     233 

The  yards  are  posted,  and  nobody,  outside  of  a  few 
of  our  own  men,  knows  that  your  car  is  here." 

The  vice-president  took  one  of  the  long  black 
cigars  from  the  open  box  on  the  flat-topped  desk, 
and  passed  the  box  to  his  two  lieutenants. 

"Light  up,"  he  said  tersely.  "I'm  due  in  Twin 
Canyons  City  to-morrow  morning,  and  we've  got 
to  thresh  this  thing  out  in  a  hurry.  Any  change 
in  the  situation  since  your  last  report?" 

Gantry  shook  his  head.  "Nothing  very  impor 
tant.  Blount's  up-town  office  was  broken  into  last 
night  and  his  safe  ripped  open  with  dynamite,  as  I 
suppose  you  have  read  in  the  papers.  Who  did  it, 
or  why  it  was  done,  nobody  seems  to  know." 

"Well,  what  came  of  it?" 

"Nothing,  so  far  as  I  can  find  out,"  returned  the 
traffic  manager.  "Blount  had  been  to  the  Gordon 
dance,  and  he  saw  the  light  in  his  office  as  he  was 
coming  down-town.  When  he  went  up  to  find  out 
what  was  going  on,  he  caught  the  safe-blower  fairly 
in  the  act,  but  the  fellow  got  away." 

"Did  Blount  lose  anything?" 

"That's  the  queer  part  of  it.  Blount  won't  say 
much  about  it;  and  this  morning  he  went  around 
to  police  headquarters  and  told  the  chief  to  drop 
the  matter,  giving  as  his  reason  that  he  was  too  busy 
to  prosecute  the  fellow  even  if  he  was  caught." 

To  a  disinterested  observer  it  might  have  seemed 
a  little  singular  that  the  vice-president  made  no  fur 
ther  comment  upon  the  burglary.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  his  next  question  completely  ignored  it. 


234    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"What  has  Blount  been  doing  this  week?'1  he 
asked. 

"He  has  spoken  twice;  once  at  Arequipa  and  once 
at  Hellersville.  I  understand  he  has  engagements 
enough  to  keep  him  out  of  town  right  up  to  election 
day." 

"That  is  good/'  was  the  nodded  approval.  "He 
would  only  be  in  the  way  here  at  the  capital."  And 
then  pointedly  to  Gantry:  "Any  more  of  that  non 
sense  about  putting  a  barrel  of  powder  under  us 
and  blowing  us  all  up  if  we  don't  build  the  freight 
tariffs  over  to  suit  his  notion?" 

"A  good  bit  more  of  it,"  Gantry  admitted  reluc 
tantly.  "The  other  day  he  went  so  far  as  to  set  a 
time  limit;  gave  me  three  days  of  grace  in  which  to 
file  the  public  notice  of  the  change  in  rates." 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"I  filed  the  notice — taking  care  that  the  only 
copy  should  be  the  one  I  sent  to  Blount's  office." 

The  vice-president  looked  coldly  at  his  division 
traffic  manager. 

"There  are  times,  Gantry,  when  you  seem  to  be 
losing  your  grip.  Dave  Blount's  son  isn't  a  school 
boy,  to  be  fooled  by  such  a  transparent  trick  as  that! 
Don't  you  suppose  he  knows,  as  well  as  you  do,  that 
the  public  notice  has  to  be  filed  in  every  station  on 
the  road?" 

"I  had  to  take  a  chance — I've  had  to  take  a  good 
many  chances,"  protested  the  traffic  manager  in  his 
own  defence;  and  Kittredge,  a  bearded  giant  who 
was  fully  the  vice-president's  match  in  heroic  phy- 


ON  THE  KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH  GODS     235 

sique,  removed  his  cigar  to  say:  "That  young  fel 
low  has  been  a  frost.  If  he  isn't  a  wild-eyed  fa 
natic,  as  Gantry  insists  he  is,  he  is  deeper  than  the 
deep  blue  sea!  I'd  just  about  as  soon  have  a  box 
of  dynamite  kicking  around  underfoot  as  to  have 
him  messing  in  this  campaign  fight.  I've  been  keep 
ing  cases  on  him,  as  you  ordered,  and  he  has  worn 
out  three  of  my  best  office  men  on  the  job." 

"You  are  prejudiced,  Kittredge,"  was  the  vice- 
president's  comment.  "It  was  the  best  move  in 
the  entire  campaign — putting  him  in  the  field. 
Apart  from  the  public  sentiment  he  has  been  turn 
ing  our  way,  we  mustn't  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that 
we  got  hold  of  him  at  a  time  when  the  Honorable 
Senator  was  getting  ready  to  turn  us  down." 

"Speaking  of  the  sentiment,"  Gantry  put  in,  "I 
don't  know  whether  it's  all  sentiment  or  not.  There's 
a  sort  of  mystery  mixed  up  in  this  speech-making 
business  of  Blount's.  At  first  I  thought  maybe  his 
sudden  popularity  was  due  to  some  word  sent  out 
from  your  Chicago  office;  but  when  you  told  me  it 
wasn't,  I  began  to  do  a  little  speculating  on  my  own 
account.  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  yet  whether  it 
is  pure  popularity,  or  whether  it's  the  assisted  kind." 

"Assisted?"  said  the  vice-president,  with  a  lift 
ing  of  the  heavy  eyebrows. 

"Yes.  It  has  been  too  unanimous.  I  have  a 
trustworthy  man  in  Blount's  up-town  office,  and  he 
says  the  invitations  have  fluttered  in  like  autumn 
leaves;  more  than  Blount  could  accept  if  he  trav 
elled  continuously.  Kittredge's  men  report  that  the 


236    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

speech-making  has  been  a  triumphant  progress  all 
over  the  State;  bands,  receptions,  committees,  and 
banquets  wherever  Blount  goes." 

Mr.  McVickar  grunted.  "  The  speeches  have  been 
all  that  anybody  could  ask.  IVe  been  reading 
them." 

Kittredge  shook  his  head. 

"Gantry  says  they  are,  but  I  say  no,"  he  con 
tended.  "  There  is  such  a  thing  as  putting  too  much 
sugar  in  the  coffee.  Blount's  overdoing  it;  he's 
putting  the  whitewash  on  so  thick  that  any  little 
handful  of  mud  that  happens  to  be  thrown  will  stick 
and  look  bad." 

"Of  course,  we  have  to  take  chances  on  that," 
was  the  vice-president's  qualifying  clause.  "Never 
theless,  young  Blount's  talk  has  undoubtedly  had 
its  effect  upon  public  sentiment.  We  must  be  care 
ful  not  to  let  the  opposition  newspapers  get  hold  of 
anything  that  would  tend  to  nullify  it." 

"They  are  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  do  it," 
said  the  superintendent.  "The  Honorable  David 
is  lying  low,  as  he  usually  does,  but  I  more  than 
half  believe  he's  getting  ready  to  give  us  the  double- 
cross.  That  is  the  explanation  of  this  safe-blowing 
scrape,  as  I  put  it  up." 

Again  the  vice-president  failed  to  comment  fur 
ther  on  the  burglary.  "What  I  am  most  afraid  of, 
now,  is  that  our  young  man  may  be,  as  you  say, 
Kittredge,  a  trifle  over-zealous,"  he  said  musingly. 
"We  have  discovered  that  he  is  something  of  a 
fanatic." 


ON  THE  KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH  GODS     237 

"He's  more  than  that,"  Kittredge  cut  in  quickly. 
"One  of  the  men  I've  had  following  him — Farns- 
worth — is  as  good  as  any  Pinkerton  that  ever  walked. 
He  says  Blount  isn't  half  so  innocent  as  he  looks 
and  acts.  The  speech-making  has  taken  him  into 
every  corner  of  the  State,  and  Farnsworth  says  he 
has  been  doing  a  lot  of  quiet  prying  around  and 
investigating  on  the  side." 

"I've  been  thinking,"  Gantry  added,  "what  a 
beautiful  mix-up  we  should  have  if  the  senator  and 
his  son  should  both  conclude  to  pull  out  and  get 
together  at  the  last  moment." 

The  master  plotter  shook  his  head.  "You  have 
no  sense  of  perspective,  Gantry.  Young  Blount  is 
with  us  solely  because  he  is  too  straightforward  to 
countenance  his  father's  political  methods.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  the  Honorable  Dave  should  turn  upon 
us  now,  he  would  be  obliged  to  do  it  at  the  expense 
of  his  son's  reputation.  Anything  he  could  say 
against  us  would  simply  have  the  effect  of  holding 
his  son  up  to  public  exprobration  as  a  common 
campaign  liar.  I  know  David  Blount  pretty  well; 
he  won't  do  anything  like  that." 

Gantry  bit  his  lip  and  a  slow  smile  of  respectful 
admiration  crept  up  to  the  Irish  eyes. 

"When  it  comes  to  the  real  fine-haired  work,  you 
have  us  all  feeling  for  hand-holds,  Mr.  McVickar," 
he  said.  "Now  I  know  why  you  made  a  place  for 
Evan  Blount,  and  why  you  have  been  giving  him  a 
free  hand  on  the  whitewashing.  It's  the  biggest  thing 
that  has  ever  been  pulled  off  in  Western  politics!" 


238    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"It  hasn't  been  pulled  off  yet,"  was  the  quick 
reply.  "We  are  holding  old  David  in  a  noose  that 
may  turn  into  a  rope  of  sand  at  any  minute;  don't 
forget  that.  During  the  few  days  intervening  be 
fore  the  election  we  must  preserve  the  present  status 
at  any  cost.  Young  Blount  is  the  only  man  who 
may  possibly  disturb  it.  Keep  him  out  of  the  way. 
If  he  doesn't  have  speaking  invitations  enough  to 
busy  him,  see  to  it  that  he  gets  them.  As  long 
as  you  can  keep  him  talking  he  won't  have  any  time 
for  side  issues.  Now  about  this  Gryson  business: 
you  want  to  handle  that  yourselves,  and  I  don't 
want  any  more  telegrams  like  the  one  you  sent  me 
last  night,  Gantry.  What's  the  condition?" 

Gantry  outlined  the  Gryson  "condition"  briefly. 
The  man  Gryson,  who  had  developed  into  a  heeler 
of  sorts,  had  been  growing  restive,  wanting  more 
money. 

"What  can  he  swing?"  was  the  curt  question. 

"Six  out  of  seven  pretty  close  counties.  I  don't 
pretend  to  know  how  he  has  done  it,  but  he  has  got 
the  goods;  I've  taken  the  trouble  to  check  up  on 
him.  With  his  pull,  we  can  swing  the  vote  of  the  cap 
ital  itself." 

The  vice-president  frowned  thoughtfully.  "The 
old  game  of  stuffing  the  registration  lists,  I  suppose," 
he  said.  And  then :  "Young  Blount  hasn't  got  wind 
of  this,  has  he?" 

Gantry  laughed.  "You  may  be  sure  he  hasn't. 
He  has  it  in  for  Gryson  on  general  principles — made 
us  take  him  off  the  shop  pay-rolls.  If  he  thought 


ON  THE  KNEES  OF  THE  HIGH   GODS     239 

we  were  dickering  with  him  now,  he'd  be  down  on 
us  like  a  thousand  of  brick.'7 

"Well,  why  don't  you  fix  Gryson,  once  for  all, 
and  have  it  over  with?  You  oughtn't  to  expect  me 
to  come  here  and  tell  you  what  to  do!" 

It  was  at  this  point  that  Kittredge  broke  in. 

"Gryson  isn't  safe.  I  have  it  straight  that  he  is 
getting  ready  to  sell  us  out.  That's  why  he  wants 
his  pay  in  advance." 

The  vice-president 's  heavy  brows  met  in  a  frown, 
and  the  muscles  of  his  square  jaw  hardened. 

"Put  Gryson  on  the  rack  and  show  him  what 
you've  got  on  him  in  that  Montana  bank  robbery. 
That  will  bring  him  to  book.  It  will  be  time  enough 
to  talk  about  terms  when  he  delivers  the  goods. 
Now  another  thing — that  Shonoho  Inn  matter  that 
I  wired  about — what  has  been  done?" 

"It  is  all  arranged,"  said  the  big  superintendent. 
"The  house  was  closed  for  the  season  last  month, 
and  we  have  taken  a  short  lease.  One  of  our  dining- 
car  managers  will  take  charge  of  the  service." 

"And  the  wires?" 

"We  have  made  a  cut-in  from  the  old  Shoshone 
Mine  wire,  which  wasn't  taken  down  when  the  mine 
was  abandoned.  That  let  us  out  very  neatly,  and 
no  one  outside  of  our  own  line-men  know  anything 
about  the  job.  We  have  four  instruments  in  the 
hotel  writing-room;  two  on  the  commercial  and  two 
on  the  railroad  wires.  Will  that  be  enough?" 

Mr.  McVickar  nodded  and  reached  over  to  press 
the  bell-push  which  signalled  to  his  train  conductor. 


240    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"That  is  about  all  I  have  to  say,"  he  said,  in  dis 
missal  of  the  two  local  officials.  "Just  nail  Gryson 
up  to  the  cross,  where  he  belongs,  and  keep  young 
Blount  busy  and  out  of  town;  I  leave  the  details 
to  you.  Get  orders  for  me  as  you  go  up  to  your 
office,  Kittredge,  and  have  the  despatcher  let  me 
out  as  soon  as  possible.  I  ought  to  be  half-way  to 
Alkali  by  this  time." 


XVIII 

THE  CHASM 

IT  was  young  Ranlett,  a  reporter  for  The  Plains- 
wan,  who  told  Evan  Blount  of  the  arrival  of  the 
vice-president's  car,  running  as  second  section  of  the 
Overland,  and  the  scene  of  the  telling  was  the  lobby 
of  the  Inter-Mountain  Hotel,  where  Blount  was 
smoking  a  pipe  of  disappointment  filled  and  lighted 
upon  hearing  that  his  father,  Mrs.  Honoria,  and 
Patricia  had  gone  out  to  dinner  somewhere — place 
unknown  to  the  obliging  room  clerk. 

Ranlett  had  tried  ineffectually  to  get  to  the  pri 
vate  car,  having  for  his  object  the  interviewing  of 
the  vice-president,  but  there  had  been  curious  ob 
structions.  The  lower  yard  was  apparently  care 
fully  guarded,  since  the  reporter  had  been  turned 
back  at  three  or  four  different  points  when  he  had 
attempted  to  cross  the  tracks.  Blount  thought  it 
a  little  singular  that  the  vice-president  should  come 
to  the  capital  secretly,  but  he  did  not  stop  to  specu 
late  upon  this. 

Having  something  more  than  a  suspicion  that 
Gantry  had  not  properly  passed  the  threat  of  ex 
posure  up  to  McVickar,  he  determined  at  once  to 
seek  an  interview  with  the  vice-president.  Walking 

241 


242    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

rapidly  down  to  the  Sierra  Avenue  station,  he  saw 
a  light  in  Gantry's  office,  and  meaning  to  be  fair 
first  and  severe  afterward,  if  needful,  he  ran  up  the 
stair  and  tried  the  door  of  the  traffic  manager's  office. 
It  opened  under  his  hand,  and  he  found  Gantry  sit 
ting  at  his  desk. 

"Ranlett  tells  me  that  Mr.  McVickar  is  in  town," 
he  began  abruptly.  "Where  is  he?" 

"Ranlett  is  mistaken — about  twenty  minutes  mis 
taken/'  was  Gantry's  reply.  "  Mr.  McVickar  passed 
through  here  a  few  minutes  ago  on  his  way  to  Twin 
Canyons  City.  His  special  has  been  gone  some  little 
time." 

"When  is  he  coming  back?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Did  you  see  him?" 

"I  did." 

"Did  you  take  up  with  him  the  matter  of  issuing 
new  tariffs  to  do  away  with  the  preferential,  or  to 
level  the  public  rates  down  to  them?" 

Gantry  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair,  and  tried  to 
evade.  "There  was  very  little  time,"  he  said.  "Mr. 
McVickar  was  in  a  great  hurry,  and  his  special  was 
held  only  a  few  minutes." 

Blount  crossed  the  room  and  sat  down. 

"Dick,  we've  come  to  the  last  round-up,"  he  said 
gravely.  "In  the  nature  of  things,  I  can't  give  you 
any  more  time.  You've  been  playing  with  me  all 
along,  and  your  last  move  in  the  game  was  a  very 
childish  one — sending  me  what  purported  to  be  a 
copy  of  a  new  freight  tariff  notice  to  the  public. 


THE   CHASM  243 

Did  you  suppose  for  a  moment  that  I  wouldn't  have 
sense  enough  to  see  that  the  thing  wasn't  official, 
that  it  had  no  signatures  and  lacked  even  the  name 
of  the  railroad  company?  I'm  here  now  to  tell  you 
that  you've  got  to  do  some  real  thing,  and  do  it 
quickly.  Let's  go  up  and  see  the  editor  of  The 
Capital." 

"What  for?"  demanded  Gantry. 

"It  is  the  railroad  paper,  and  I  want  you  to  give 
Brinkley,  the  editor,  an  interview  to  the  effect  that 
a  revision  of  the  freight  rates  is  in  process,  and  that 
shippers  having  grievances  should  present  them  at 
once.  That  will  at  least  start  the  ball  to  rolling  in 
the  right  direction." 

"I  should  think  it  would!"  scoffed  the  traffic  man 
ager.  "What  you  don't  know  about  the  making  of 
freight  tariffs  would  sink  a  ship,  Evan.  These  things 
can't  be  done  while  you  wait!" 

"But  they  must  be,  in  this  instance,"  Blount 
insisted.  "If  you  won't  withdraw  the  preferential 
given  to  the  corporations,  you  must  do  the  other 
thing.  Post  your  legal  notice  of  a  reduction  of  the 
rates  on  the  commodities  upon  which  you  are  now 
allowing  rebates,  and  I'll  fight  straight  through  on 
the  line  I've  been  taking  all  along." 

"And  if  we  don't?"  queried   Gantry. 

"What  is  the  use  of  making  me  say  it  for  the 
hundredth  time,  Dick?  If  you  don't  do  one  or  the 
other,  there  will  be  an  explosion,  just  as  I've  told 
you.  Of  course,  you  know  that  my  safe  was  broken 
open  last  night — wrecked  with  dynamite?" 


244    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Yes." 

"Well,  unluckily  for  you,  the  packet  of  papers 
which  might  otherwise  have  been  taken  or  destroyed, 
didn't  happen  to  be  in  the  safe.  The  documents  are 
still  where  they  can  be  used  at  an  hour's  notice. 
And,  by  heaven,  Dick,  I'll  use  them  if  you  don't 
play  fair!" 

Gantry,  long-suffering  and  patient  to  a  fault  in  a 
business  affair,  was  not  altogether  superhuman. 

"Evan,  you  are  a  frost — a  black  frost!  You  harp 
on  one  string  until  you  wear  it  to  frazzles!  Don't 
you  know  that  the  Transcontinental  is  big  enough 
and  strong  enough  to  chivvy  you  from  one  end  of 
this  country  to  the  other,  if  you  turn  traitor?  I 
love  a  fighting  man,  but  by  God,  I  haven't  any  use 
for  a  fool!" 

Blount  laughed. 

"If  I  have  succeeded  in  making  you  angry,  per 
haps  there  is  a  chance  that  you  will  do  something. 
You  may  curse  me  out  all  you  want  to,  but  the 
fact  remains.  I'm  going  to  explode  the  bomb,  and 
it  will  be  touched  off  long  enough  before  election  to 
do  the  work,  if  you  keep  on  refusing  to  make  my 
word  good  to  the  people.  That  is  all — all  the  all. 
Now,  will  you  go  up  to  The  Capital  office  with  me, 
and  dictate  that  bit  of  information  that  I  men 
tioned?" 

"Not  in  a  thousand  years!"  raged  Gantry.  "Not 
in  ten  thousand  years ! ' '  Nevertheless  he  rose,  closed 
his  desk,  and  prepared  to  accompany  the  importu 
nate  political  manager.  Half-way  up  the  first  square 


THE  CHASM  245 

he  said:  "There  is  no  use  in  our  going  to  The  Capital 
office  at  this  time  of  night.  Brinkley  doesn't  get 
around  to  his  desk  much  before  eleven.  Let's  go 
up  to  the  club." 

At  the  Railway  Club  the  traffic  manager  developed 
a  keen  desire  to  kill  the  intervening  time  in  a  game 
of  billiards.  Blount  indulged  him,  beat  him  three 
games  in  succession,  and  consistently  refused  to 
drink  with  him.  At  the  end  of  the  third  game, 
Gantry  gave  a  terse  definition,  abusively  worded, 
of  a  man  who  would  force  his  friend  to  go  and  drink 
alone,  and  went  to  the  buffet.  Ten  minutes  later, 
when  Blount  went  after  him,  he  had  disappeared, 
and  the  visit  to  the  newspaper  office  was  postponed, 
perforce. 

On  the  following  morning,  Blount  found  a  tele 
gram  on  his  desk.  It  bore  the  vice-president's  name, 
and  the  date-line  was  Twin  Canyons  City.  It  di 
rected  him  to  go  to  a  remote  portion  of  the  State 
beyond  the  Lost  River  Mountains  to  examine  the 
papers  in  a  right-of-way  case  which  was  coming  up 
for  trial  at  the  next  term  of  court.  This  was  in  Kitt- 
redge's  department,  and  Blount  called  the  super 
intendent  on  the  phone.  Kittredge  was  in  his  of 
fice,  and  he  evidently  knew  about  the  vice-president's 
telegram.  Also,  he  seemed  anxious  to  have  the  divi 
sion  counsel  go  to  Lewiston  at  once;  so  anxious  that 
he  offered  his  own  service-car  to  be  run  as  a  special 
train. 

Blount  saw  no  way  to  evade  a  positive  order  from 
the  vice-president,  but  he  was  more  than  suspicious 


246    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

that  Gantry  or  Kittredge,  or  possibly  both  of  them, 
had  misrepresented  the  right-of-way  case  to  Mr. 
McVickar,  in  an  attempt  to  get  him  away  from  the 
city  and  so  to  postpone  a  reiteration  of  the  demand 
for  a  new  freight  tariff.  What  he  did  not  suspect 
was  that  Mr.  McVickar's  telegram  might  possibly 
have  originated  in  Kittredge's  office. 

Asking  the  superintendent  to  have  the  service- 
car  made  ready  immediately,  he  packed  his  hand 
bag,  left  a  note  for  Patricia,  who  was  not  yet  visible, 
and  another  for  Gantry,  who  was  not  in  his  office, 
and  began  the  roundabout  journey. 

In  all  his  travelling  up  and  down  the  State  he 
had  never  found  anything  to  equal  the  slowness  of 
the  special  train.  The  noon  meal,  served  by  Kitt 
redge's  cook  in  the  open  compartment,  found  the 
special  less  than  fifty  miles  on  its  way,  and  com 
fortably  waiting  at  that  hour  on  a  side-track  among 
the  sage-brush  hills  for  the  coming  of  a  delayed  train 
in  the  opposite  direction.  Four  mortal  hours  were 
lost  on  the  lonely  siding.  There  was  no  station,  and 
Blount  could  not  telegraph.  So  far  as  he  knew,  the 
service-car  might  stay  there  for  a  day  or  a  week. 
It  was  all  to  no  purpose  that  he  quarrelled  with  his 
conductor.  The  train  crew  had  orders  to  wait  for 
the  west-bound  time  freight,  and  there  was  noth 
ing  to  do  but  to  keep  on  waiting. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  time  freight,  or  some 
other  train,  came  along,  and  the  special  was  once 
more  set  in  motion  eastward,  but  at  dinner-time  it 
was  again  side-tracked,  eighty-odd  miles  from  its 


THE   CHASM  247 

destination,  and  once  more  at  a  desert  siding  where 
there  was  no  telegraph  office.  The  car  was  still 
standing  on  the  siding  when  Blount  went  to  bed. 
But  in  the  morning  it  was  in  motion  again,  jogging 
now  on  its  leisurely  way  up  the  branch  line. 

At  Lewiston,  the  town  at  the  end  of  the  branch 
where  the  right-of-way  trouble  had  originated,  Blount 
found  more  delay,  carefully  planned  for,  as  he  had 
now  come  firmly  to  believe.  The  plaintifls  in  the 
right-of-way  case  were  out  of  town,  and  their  law 
yers  had  gone  to  the  capital.  Blount  saw  that  he 
might  wait  a  week  without  accomplishing  anything, 
hence  he  immediately  instructed  his  conductor  to 
get  orders  for  the  return. 

After  having  been  gone  a  half-hour  or  more,  the 
conductor  came  back  to  the  service-car  to  say  that 
the  single  telegraph-wire  connecting  Lewiston  with 
the  outer  world  was  down,  and  that  the  orders  for 
the  return  journey  could  not  be  obtained  until  the 
telegraph  connection  was  restored.  At  that  point 
Blount  took  matters  into  his  own  hands. 

There  was  a  mining  company  having  its  head 
quarters  in  the  isolated  town,  and  Blount  had  met 
the  manager  once  in  the  capital — met  him  in  a  social 
way,  and  had  been  able  to  show  him  some  little 
attention.  Hiring  a  buckboard  at  the  one  livery 
stable  in  the  place,  he  drove  out  to  the  %i Little 
Man*,"  and  found  Blatchford,  the  friendly  manager, 
smoking  a  black  clay  cutty  pipe  in  his  shack  office, 
It  did  not  take  Blount  over  a  minute  to  renew  the 
pleasant  acquaintance,  and  to  state  hi*  dilemma. 


248    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I'm  hung  up  here  with  my  special  train,  the  wires 
are  down  and  I  can't  get  out,"  was  his  statement  of 
the  crude  fact.  "Didn't  you  tell  me  that  you  owned 
a  motor-car?" 

"I  did,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "Want  to  bor 
row  it?" 

"You  beat  me  to  it,"  said  Blount,  laughing. 
"That  was  precisely  what  I  was  going  to  beg  for — 
the  loan  of  your  car.  I  believe  you  told  me  that 
you  had  driven  it  from  here  to  the  capital." 

"Oh,  yes;  several  times,  and  the  road  is  fairly 
good  by  way  of  Arequipa  and  Lost  River  Canyon. 
It's  only  about  half  as  far  across  country  as  it  is 
around  by  the  railroad.  You  ought  to  make  it  in 
six  hours  and  a  half,  or  seven  at  the  longest.  Drive 
me  down  to  the  burg,  and  I'll  put  you  in  possession." 

Blount  began  to  be  audibly  thankful,  but  the  mine 
manager  good-naturedly  cut  him  short. 

"It's  all  in  the  day's  work,  Mr.  Blount,  and  I'm 
glad  to  be  of  service — not  because  you  are  the 
Transcontinental' s  lawyer,  nor  altogether  because 
you  are  the  Honorable  David's  son.  I  haven't  for 
gotten  your  kindness  to  me  when  I  was  in  town 
three  weeks  ago.  Let's  go  and  get  out  the  chug- 
wagon." 

A  little  later  Blount  found  himself  handling  the 
wheel  of  a  very  serviceable  knockabout  car  equipped 
for  hard  work  on  country  roads.  When  he  was  ready 
to  go,  he  drove  down  to  the  railroad  yard  and  hunted 
up  his  conductor. 

"After  you  have  had  your  vacation,  you  may  get 


THE  CHASM  249 

orders  from  Mr.  Kittredge  and  take  his  car  back  to 
the  capital,"  he  told  the  man.  "When  you  do,  you 
may  give  him  my  compliments,  and  tell  him  I  pre 
ferred  to  run  my  own  special  train." 

The  conductor  grinned  and  made  no  reply,  and 
he  was  still  grinning  when  he  sauntered  into  the 
railroad  telegraph  office  and  spoke  to  the  operator. 

"I  dunno  what's  up,"  he  said,  "but  whatever  it 
was,  the  string's  broke.  Old  Dave  Sage-Brush's 
son  has  borrowed  him  an  automobile,  and  gone  back 
to  town  on  his  own  hook.  Guess  you'd  better  call 
up  the  division  despatcher  and  tell  him  the  broken- 
wire  gag  didn't  work.  Get  a  move  on.  We  hain't 
got  no  thin'  to  stay  here  for  now." 

Blount  had  a  very  pleasant  drive  across  country, 
with  no  mishap  worse  than  a  blown-out  tire  and  a 
little  carbureter  trouble.  Being  a  motorist  of  parts, 
neither  the  accident  nor  the  needed  readjustment 
detained  him  very  long,  and  by  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  he  was  racing  down  the  smooth  northern 
road,  with  the  spires  and  tall  buildings  of  the  capi 
tal  fairly  in  sight. 

Not  to  let  gratitude  lag  too  far  behind  the  service 
rendered,  he  drove  Blatchford's  car  to  the  garage 
nearest  the  freight  station,  left  instructions  to  have 
it  shipped  back  to  Lewiston  by  the  first  train,  and 
promptly  went  in  search  of  Gantry.  The  traffic 
manager  was  not  in  his  office,  but  Blount  found  him 
at  the  Railway  Club. 

"Just  a  word,  Dick,"  he  began,  when  he  had  over 
taken  his  man  pointing  for  the  buffet.  "Kittredge 


250    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

put  up  a  job  on  me,  and  I  think  you  helped  him. 
I  had  to  borrow  an  automobile  to  come  back  in 
from  Lewiston.  It's  down  at  the  Central  Garage, 
and  I  have  given  Banks  ton,  the  garage  man,  orders 
to  ship  it  back  to  Mr.  Blatchford,  of  the  'Little 
Mary.'  I  wish  you'd  phone  your  freight  agent  to 
see  that  it  is  properly  taken  care  of,  and  that  the 
freight  bill  is  sent  to  me." 

Gantry  made  no  reply,  but  he  went  obediently  to 
the  house  telephone  and  gave  the  necessary  instruc 
tions.  The  thing  done,  he  turned  shortly  upon 
Blount,  scowling  morosely. 

"Come  on  in  and  let's  have  a  drink,"  he  said. 

Blount  marked  the  brittleness  of  tone  and  the 
half-quarrelsome  light  in  the  eyes  which  were  a  little 
bloodshot. 

"No,  Dick;  you've  had  one  too  many  already," 
he  objected  firmly. 

Gantry  put  his  back  against  the  wall  of  the  cor 
ridor. 

"No,"  he  rasped;  "I'm  not  drunk,  but  I'm  ready 
to  fight  you  to  a  finish,  and  for  once  in  a  way  I'm 
going  to  get  in  the  first  lick.  You've  been  bluffing 
me  from  the  start,  and  you're  going  to  try  it  again. 
It  won't  go  this  time;  you've  got  to  show  me!" 

If  Blount  hesitated  it  was  only  because  he  was 
trying  to  determine  whether  or  not  the  traffic  man 
ager  was  business-fit.  Gantry  comprehended  per 
fectly,  and  his  laugh  was  derisive  and  a  trifle  bitter. 

"You're  sizing  me  up  and  asking  yourself  if  I'm 
too  far  gone  to  be  worth  while,"  he  jeered.  "If  I 


THE  CHASM  251 

couldn't  stand  any  more  liquid  grief  than  you  can, 
I  would  have  been  down  and  out  years  ago.  Show 
your  hand,  Evan — if  you  have  any  to  show." 

Blount  hesitated  no  longer.  Taking  Gantry's  arm, 
he  led  him  out  of  the  club  and  around  the  block  to 
the  Sierra  National  Bank.  It  was  after  banking 
hours,  but  the  side  door  giving  access  to  the  safe- 
deposit  department  was  still  open.  With  the  traffic 
manager  at  his  elbow,  Blount  asked  the  custodian 
for  his  private  box,  got  it,  and  led  the  way  to  one 
of  the  cell-like  retiring  rooms.  Gantry  proved  his 
capacity  for  transacting  business  by  turning  on  the 
lights,  locking  the  door,  and  squaring  himself  in  a 
chair  at  one  side  of  the  tiny  writing-table. 

Blount  opened  the  japanned  safety  box,  took  out 
a  bulky  envelope  and  tossed  it  across  to  the  traffic 
manager. 

"You  can  see  for  yourself  whether  I've  been 
bluffing  or  not,"  he  said  quietly;  and  then  he  turned 
his  back  and  interested  himself  in  the  lithograph  of 
the  latest  Atlantic  liner  framed  and  hanging  upon 
the  mahogany  end  wall  of  the  small  room. 

For  a  little  time  there  was  a  dead  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  faint  rustling  of  the  papers  as  Gantry 
withdrew  and  unfolded  them.  When  he  had  glanced 
at  the  last  folded  letter  sheet,  he  snapped  the  rubber 
band  upon  the  sheaf  and  sat  back  in  his  chair. 
Blount  turned  at  the  snap  and  found  the  traffic 
manager  smiling  curiously  up  at  him. 

"Sit  down,  Evan,"  was  the  friendly  invitation. 
And  when  Blount  had  dropped  into  the  opposite 


252    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

chair:  "We  used  to  be  pretty  good  friends  in  the 
old  days,  Ebee,"  Gantry  went  on,  falling  easily  into 
the  use  of  the  college  nickname.  "I  haven't  for 
gotten  the  time  when  I  would  have  had  to  break 
and  go  home  if  you  hadn't  stood  by  me  like  a  brother 
and  lent  me  money.  For  that  reason,  and  for  some 
others,  I  hate  to  see  you  bucking  a  dead  wall  out 
here  in  the  greasewood  hills." 

"It  is  you  and  your  kind  who  are  bucking  the 
dead  wall,  Dick." 

"No,  listen;  I'm  giving  it  to  you  straight,  now. 
A  few  minutes  ago  you  thought  I  was  drunk — pos 
sibly  too  far  gone  to  serve  your  purpose.  I  wasn't; 
I  was  merely  sick  and  disgusted  at  the  spectacle 
afforded  by  a  crafty,  crooked,  double-dealing  old 
world — the  world  we're  living  in.  Once  in  a  blue 
moon  an  honest  man  turns  up,  and  when  that  hap 
pens  he's  got  to  be  broken  on  the  wheel — as  you're 
going  to  be  broken.  Oh,  yes;  I  came  out  with 
ideals,  too,  but  they've  been  knocked  out  of  me. 
We  all  have  to  keep  the  lock-step  in  business,  and 
business  is  hell,  Evan.  I'm  honest  to  my  salt — 
which  is  to  say  that  as  yet  I'm  not  using  my  job  to 
line  my  own  pockets,  but  that's  the  one  decent  thing 
that  can  be  said  of  me.  Don't  let  me  bore  you." 

"Go  on,"  said  Blount  soberly.  "I  don't  see  the 
pointing  of  it  yet,  but — 

"You  will  when  I  tell  you  that  I've  been  lying 
to  you;  faking  first  one  thing  and  then  another. 
Do  you  get  that?" 

"I  hear  you  say  it;  yes." 


THE  CHASM  253 

"It's  so.  I  faked  that  story  about  your  father's 
having  made  an  underground  deal  with  us.  It  was 
a  lie  out  of  whole  cloth,  because  I  didn't  believe  at 
that  tune  that  he  had.  There  had  been  a  falling 
out  between  him  and  Mr.  McVickar;  that  was  com 
mon  talk  on  the  division.  But  until  yesterday  I 
didn't  know  for  certain  that  the  trouble  had  been 
patched  up;  in  fact,  I  had  my  own  reasons  for  be 
lieving  that  it  hadn't  been  patched  up." 

"And  you  told  me  there  was  an  alliance  in  order 
that  I  might  believe  that  my  father  would  be  in 
volved  in  an  exposure  of  the  railroad's  double-deal 
ing  with  the  public?" 

"Just  that.  Self-preservation  is  the  primal  law 
— after  you've  dropped  the  ideals — and  I  thought 
I  had  invented  a  way  to  hold  you  down.  I  might 
have  saved  myself  the  trouble — and  the  lie.  It 
comes  down  to  this,  Evan:  you  are  one  man  against 
a  crooked  world,  and  you  haven't  had  a  ghost  of  a 
show  from  the  first  minute." 

"You'll  have  to  make  it  plainer,"  was  the  even- 
toned  rejoinder.  "As  matters  stand  now,  I  am 
pretty  well  assured  that  I  can  do  what  I  set  out  to 
do.  I'm  going  to  be  able  to  make  my  own  employers 
come  through  with  clean  hands." 

Gantry  was  shaking  his  head  slowly,  and  again 
the  curious  smile  flitted  across  his  keen,  fine-fea 
tured  face,  lingering  for  an  instant  at  the  corners  of 
the  eyes. 

"You  say  I'll  have  to  make  it  plainer,  and  I  will. 
A  little  while  ago  you  intimated  that  Kittredge  and 


254    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

I  were  responsible  for  the  telegram  which  sent  you 
to  Lewiston  yesterday.  It  was  a  fake,  but  it  didn't 
originate  with  Kittredge  or  with  me." 

"With  whom,  then?" 

"I  hate  to  tell  you,  Evan — it'll  hit  you  hard. 
The  frame-up  was  your  father's.  He  got  hold  of 
Kittredge  the  night  before,  some  time  after  we  had 
left  my  office  together  to  go  up-town.  He  told  Kitt 
redge  it  was  for  the  good  of  'the  cause,'  and  sug 
gested  that  a  wire  purporting  to  come  from  Mr. 
McVickar  would  probably  turn  the  trick.  He  didn't 
give  his  reason  for  wanting  to  get  you  out  of  the 
way  at  this  time,  and  Kittredge  didn't  ask  it." 

Blount  was  pinning  the  traffic  manager  down  with 
an  eyehold  which  was  like  a  gripping  hand,  and  the 
close  air  of  the  little  mahogany  bank  cell  became 
suddenly  charged  with  the  subtle  effluence  of  antag 
onism.  Blount  was  the  first  to  break  the  painful 
silence. 

"You  have  told  me  nothing  new,  Dick,  or  at  least 
nothing  that  I  have  not  been  taking  for  granted  al 
most  from  the  beginning.  But  let  it  be  understood 
between  us,  once  for  all,  that  I  discuss  my  father, 
his  motives,  or  his  acts,  with  no  man  living.  We'll 
drop  that  phase  of  it;  it's  a  side  issue,  and  has  no 
bearing  upon  the  business  that  brought  us  here. 
You  asked  for  the  proof  of  my  ability  to  compel 
your  employers  and  mine  to  turn  over  the  clean 
leaf.  You  have  it  there  under  your  hand." 

For  answer,  Gantry  pushed  the  rubber-banded  file 
across  the  table  to  his  companion.  "Take  another 


THE  CHASM  255 

look,  Evan,  and  see  how  helpless  you  are  in  the  grip 
of  a  crooked  world,"  he  said,  very  gently. 

Blount  caught  up  the  file  and  ran  it  through.  It 
was  made  up  wholly  of  pieces  of  blank  paper,  cut  to 
letter-size,  and  clipped  at  the  corner  with  a  brass 
fastener,  as  the  originals  had  been. 


XIX 

A  COG  IN  THE  WHEEL 

WHILE  Blount  was  staring  abstractedly  at  the 
file  of  blank  sheets  which  had  been  substituted  for 
the  incriminating  letters  of  the  vote-selling  corpora 
tion  managers,  with  Gantry  sitting  back,  alert  and 
watchful,  to  mark  the  first  signs  of  the  coming  storm, 
there  came  a  tap  on  the  locked  door  of  the  little 
room,  and  a  deprecatory  voice  said:  "It's  our  clo 
sing  time,  gentlemen:  if  you  are  about  through " 

"In  a  minute,"  returned  Gantry  quickly,  and  then 
he  took  the  blank  dummy  out  of  Blount's  hands, 
pocketed  it,  shut  the  japanned  safety  box,  and 
touched  his  companion's  shoulder. 

"Let's  get  out  of  this,  Evan,"  he  said,  still  speak 
ing  as  one  speaks  to  a  hurt  child.  "Conroy  wants 
to  close  up." 

Blount  suffered  himself  to  be  led  away,  and  in 
the  vault  room  he  went  mechanically  through  the 
motions  of  locking  up  the  empty  box.  In  the  street 
Gantry  once  more  took  the  lead,  walking  his  silent 
charge  around  the  block  and  into  the  Temple  Court 
elevator.  A  little  later,  when  the  door  of  the  pri 
vate  room  in  the  up-town  legal  office  had  opened  to 
admit  them,  and  Blount  had  dropped  heavily  into  his 

256 


A  COG  IN  THE  WHEEL  257 

own  desk  chair,  Gantry  plunged  promptly  into  the 
breach. 

"We've  been  friendly  enemies  in  this  thing  right 
from  the  start,  Evan/'  he  began,  "and  that's  as  it 
had  to  be.  But  blood — even  the  blood  of  a  college 
brotherhood — is  thicker  than  water.  I  know  now 
what  you're  in  for,  and  I'm  going  to  stand  by  you, 
if  it  costs  me  my  job.  First,  let's  clear  the  way  a 
bit.  If  I  say  that  I  haven't  had  anything  to  do, 
even  by  implication,  with  this  jolt  you've  just  been 
given,  will  you  believe  me?" 

Blount  lifted  a  pair  of  heavy-lidded  eyes  and  let 
them  rest  for  an  instant  upon  the  face  of  the  traffic 
manager.  "If  you  say  so,  Dick,  I'll  believe  it,"  he 
returned. 

"Good.  Now  we  can  dive  into  the  thick  of  it. 
I  won't  insult  you  by  doubting  the  premising  fact. 
You  had  the  evidence  once?" 

"I  did — enough  of  it  to  keep  a  grand  jury  busy 
for  a  month.  It  came  to  me  in  the  shape  of  unsolic 
ited  letters  from  the  men  who  are  benefiting  by  the 
railroad  company's  evasion  of  the  law,  and  who  are, 
of  course,  equally  criminal  with  the  railroad  officials. 
Why  these  letters  were  written  to  me  I  don't  know, 
Gantry.  I  merely  know  that  they  were  wholly  un 
solicited." 

"They  were  written  to  you  because  you  are  sup 
posed  to  be  the  doctor  in  the  present  crisis." 

"But  good  God,  Dick!  Haven't  I  been  shouting 
from  every  platform  in  the  State  that  we  were  out 
for  a  clean  campaign?" 


258    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Gantry  shook  his  head  and  his  smile  was  com 
miserative.  "I  know;  and  every  man  who  has 
had  his  fingers  in  the  pitch-barrel  has  chuckled  to 
himself,  and  when  two  of  them  would  get  together 
they'd  pound  each  other  on  the  back  and  swear  that 
you  were  the  smoothest  spellbinder  that  Mr.  Mc- 
Vickar  has  ever  turned  loose  on  this  side  of  the  big 
mountains.  It  grinds,  Evan,  but  it's  the  fact.  Not 
one  of  the  men  you  are  after  has  ever  taken  your 
speeches  seriously. " 

Blount's  head  sank  lower. 

"I'm  smashed,  Dick!"  he  groaned;  "utterly  and 
irretrievably  disgraced  and  discredited  in  my  na 
tive  State!  There  isn't  a  man  in  the  sage-brush 
hills  who  would  believe  me  under  oath,  after  this." 

"It's  hard,  Evan — damned  hard!"  said  the  traffic 
manager,  driven  to  repetition.  "But  grilling  over  it 
doesn't  get  us  anywhere.  What  are  you  going  to  do  "  ? 

"With  the  election  only  five  days  away,  there  is 
nothing  that  can  be  done.  I  had  you  down,  Dick; 
I  could  have  forced  my  point  with  the  weapon  I 
had.  Isn't  that  so?" 

Gantry  wagged  his  head  dubiously.  "I'm  not  the 
big  boss,  but  I  can  tell  you  right  now  that,  if  you 
could  have  shown  me  what  I  was  fully  expecting  to 
see,  the  wires  between  here  and  wherever  Mr.  Mc- 
Vickar's  private  car  happens  to  be  would  have  been 
kept  pretty  hot  for  a  while."  Then,  upon  second 
thought:  "Yes;  I  guess  you  could  have  pulled  it  off. 
We  couldn't  stand  for  any  such  bill-boarding  as  you 
were  threatening  to  give  us." 


A  COG  IN  THE  WHEEL  259 

Blount  turned  to  his  desk,  opened  it,  and  began 
to  arrange  his  papers. 

"You've  been  a  good  friend,  after  all,  Dick,"  he 
said,  talking  as  he  worked.  "I'm  going  to  ask  you 
to  go  one  step  farther  and  take  charge  of  the  funeral, 
if  you  will.  Find  Mr.  McVickar  and  wire  him  that 
I've  dropped  out.  I'll  write  him  a  resignation  from 
somewhere,  when  I  have  time." 

Gantry  left  his  chair  and  came  to  stand  beside 
the  quitter. 

"Honestly,  Evan,"  he  said  slowly,  "I  thought  you 
were  a  grown  man.  You'll  forgive  the  mistake, 
won't  you?" 

Blount  turned  upon  his  tormentor  and  swore 
pathetically.  "What's  the  use — what  in  the  devil 
is  the  use?"  he  rasped,  when  the  outburst  began  to 
grow  measurably  articulate.  "You  know  as  well  as 
I  do  what's  been  done  to  me,  and  who  has  done  it. 
Can  I  lift  my  hand  to  strike  back,  even  if  I  had  a 
weapon  to  strike  with?" 

"Perhaps  you  can't.  But  you  owe  it  to  yourself, 
and  to  a  certain  bright-minded  young  woman  that 
I  know  of,  not  to  fly  off  the  handle  without  at  least 
trying  to  see  if  you  can't  stay  on.  Wait  a  minute." 
The  railroad  man  took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  floor, 
head  down  and  hands  behind  him.  When  he  came 
back  to  the  desk  end  he  began  again.  "Evan,  who's 
got  those  original  papers?" 

"The  man  who  blew  up  my  safe,  of  course. 
You've  said  you  didn't  hire  him,  and  that  leaves 
only  one  alternative." 


260    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Gantry  took  the  dummy  packet  from  his  pocket 
and  held  one  of  the  blank  sheets  up  to  the  light  of 
the  window.  It  was  growing  dusk,  and  when  he 
failed  to  discern  what  he  was  looking  for,  he  turned 
on  the  electric  lights  and  tried  again.  At  this  the 
script  "T-C"  water-mark  was  plainly  visible,  and 
he  showed  it  to  Blount. 

"That  proves  conclusively  that  the  substitution 
was  made  here  in  your  own  office.  Whom  do  you 
suspect?" 

In  a  flash  Blount  remembered:  how  he  had  sent 
Collins  to  get  the  packet  out  of  the  safe,  the  stenog 
rapher's  delay,  the  hasty  sealing  of  the  envelope, 
and  the  suspicion  which  had  been  cut  short  by  the 
incoming  of  Ackerton. 

"I  know  now  who  did  it,  and  when  it  was  done," 
he  said.  "The  day  before  the  office  was  broken 
into  I  told  Collins  to  bring  me  the  papers  from  the 
safe.  What  he  brought  me  was  that  dummy — in  a 
freshly  sealed  envelope.  I  was  going  to  open  the 
the  envelope,  but  just  then  Ackerton  came  in." 

"All  clear  so  far,"  said  Gantry;  and  then:  "Where 
is  Collins  now?" 

"I  don't  know;  he  comes  and  goes  pretty  much 
as  he  pleases  when  I'm  not  in  town." 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  him  personally?" 

"No." 

"I  do.  His  father  was  a  bank  cashier,  and  he 
became  a  defaulter — of  the  easy-mark  kind;  the 
kind  that  is  too  good-natured  to  look  too  curiously 
at  a  friend's  collateral.  He  would  have  gone  over 


A  COG  IN  THE  WHEEL  261 

the  road  if  your  father  hadn't  pulled  him  out  by 
main  strength." 

"I  see,"  said  Blount  cynically.  "And  the  son 
has  paid  his  father's  debt  to  my  father.  But  why 
the  safe-blowing?" 

"  Collinses  face  had  to  be  saved  in  some  way.  He 
couldn't  know  that  you  meant  to  lock  the  dummy 
up  in  the  safety  vault,"  returned  Gantry,  and  then, 
after  a  pause:  "That's  our  one  little  ray  of  hope, 
Evan." 

"I  don't  see  it." 

"Don't  you?  Then  I'll  make  it  a  bit  plainer.  If 
some  railroad  burglar  had  cracked  your  safe,  you 
could  confidently  assume  that  the  original  letters 
have  been  carefully  cremated  by  this  time,  couldn't 
you?" 

"I  suppose  so." 

"  But  if  your  father  has  them  .  .  .  Evan,  I  don't 
know  any  more  than  the  man  in  the  moon  what  he 
wants  them  for,  but  the  man  in  the  street  would 
grin  and  tell  you  that  your  father  was  merely  getting 
ready  to  hold  the  railroad  company  up  for  something 
it  didn't  want  to  part  with." 

"I'm  letting  you  say  it  of  my  own  flesh  and  blood, 
Dick;  and  it  shows  you  how  badly  broken  I  am. 
After  all,  it  doesn't  lead  anywhere." 

"Yes,  it  does.  Let  us  suppose,  just  for  the  sake 
of  argument,  that  your  father  doesn't  know  how 
much  those  letters  mean  to  you — I  know  it's  a  pretty 
hard  thing  to  imagine,  but  we'll  do  it  by  main 
strength  and  awkwardness.  Let  us  suppose  again, 


262    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

that  being  the  case,  that  you  go  to  him  frankly  and 
show  him  in  a  few  well-chosen  words  just  where  he 
has  landed  you;  tell  him  you've  got  to  have  those 
letters — simply  got  to  have  them — to  save  your  face. 
I  know  your  father,  Evan,  a  good  bit  better  than  you 
do;  he'd  give  you  the  earth  with  a  fence  around  it 
if  you  should  ask  him  for  it." 

Evan  Blount  got  slowly  out  of  his  chair,  stood  up, 
and  put  his  hands  upon  the  smaller  man's  shoulders. 

"Dick,  do  you  realize  what  you  are  doing  for  your 
self  when  you  show  me  a  possible  way  of  getting 
my  weapon  back?"  he  demanded. 

Gantry's  lips  became  a  fine  straight  line  and  he 
nodded. 

"That's  what  made  me  walk  the  floor  a  few  min 
utes  ago;  I  was  trying  to  find  out  if  I  were  big 
enough.  It's  all  right,  Ebee;  you  go  to  it,  and  I'll 
throw  up  my  job  and  run  a  foot-race  with  the  sher 
iff,  if  I  have  to.  Damn  the  job,  anyway!"  he  fin 
ished  petulantly.  "I'm  tired  of  being  a  robber  for 
somebody  else's  pocket  all  the  time!" 

Blount  sat  down  again  and  put  his  face  in  his 
hands.  After  a  time  he  looked  up  to  say:  "I  can't 
let  you  outbid  me  in  the  open  market,  Dick.  You 
can't  set  the  friendship  peg  any  higher  than  I  can." 

Gantry  crossed  the  room  and  recovered  his  top 
coat  and  hat  from  the  chair  where  he  had  thrown 
them. 

"Don't  you  be  a  fool,"  he  advised  curtly. 
"There's  a  railroad  down  in  Peru  that  is  going 
bankrupt  for  the  lack  of  a  wide-awake,  up-to-date 


A  COG  IN  THE  WHEEL  263 

traffic  man.  I've  had  the  offer  on  my  desk  for  a 
month,  and  I'm  going  to  cable  to-night.  That  lets 
you  out,  whether  you  do  or  don't.  But  if  you've 
got  the  sense  of  a  wooden  Indian,  you'll  do  as  I've 
said — and  do  it  pronto.  Your  time's  mighty  short, 
anyway.  So  long." 
And  before  Blount  could  stop  him  he  was  gone. 


XX 

A  STONE  FOR  BREAD 

THOUGH  he  had  eaten  nothing  since  the  early 
breakfast  in  the  service-car  on  the  way  to  Lewiston, 
Evan  Blount  let  the  dinner  hour  go  by  unnoted. 
For  a  long  time  after  Gantry  had  left  him  he  sat 
motionless,  a  prey  to  thoughts  too  bitter  to  find 
expression  in  words;  the  dismaying  thoughts  of  the 
hard-pressed  champion  who  has  discovered  that  his 
foes  are  of  his  own  household. 

Apart  from  the  one  great  boyhood  sorrow,  a  sor 
row  which  had  been  allowed  unduly  to  magnify 
itself  with  the  passing  years,  he  had  never  been 
brought  face  to  face  with  any  of  the  hardnesses 
which  alone  can  make  the  soldier  of  life  entirely 
intrepid  in  the  shock  of  battle.  In  the  backward 
glance  he  saw  that  his  homeless  youth  had  been, 
none  the  less,  a  sheltered  youth;  that  his  father's 
love  and  care  had  built  and  maintained  invisible  ram 
parts  which  had  hitherto  shielded  him.  It  was  most 
humiliating  to  find  that  the  crumbling  of  the  ram 
parts  was  leaving  him  naked  and  shivering;  to  find 
that  he  was  so  far  out  of  touch  with  his  pioneer 
lineage  as  to  be  unable  to  stand  alone. 

But  there  are  better  things  in  the  blood  of  the 

264 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  265 

pioneers  than  a  latter-day  descendant  of  the  conti 
nent-conquering  fathers  may  be  able  to  discern  in 
the  moment  of  defeat  and  disaster.  Slowly,  so 
slowly  that  he  did  not  recognize  the  precise  mo 
ment  at  which  the  tide  of  depression  and  wretched 
ness  reached  its  lowest  ebb  and  turned  to  sweep  him 
back  to  a  firmer  footing,  Blount  found  himself  emer 
ging  from  the  bitter  waters.  Gantry,  the  Gantry 
whom  he  had  been  calling  hard  names,  setting  him 
down  as  at  best  a  lovable  but  wholly  unprincipled 
time-server,  had  pointed  a  possible  way  to  retrieval, 
heroically  effacing  himself  that  the  way  might  be 
unobstructed.  With  the  warm  blood  leaping  again, 
Blount  straightened  himself  in  his  chair.  He  would 
go  to  his  father,  not  as  a  son  begging  a  boon,  but  as 
a  man  demanding  his  rights.  The  machine  had  seen 
fit  to  throw  down  the  challenge  by  burglarizing  his 
office  and  robbing  him.  Very  good;  there  were  five 
days  remaining  in  which  to  strike  back.  He  would 
lift  the  challenge,  and  if  his  reasonable  demand  should 
be  refused,  he  would  drop  the  railroad  crusade  and 
break  into  the  wider  field  of  bossism  and  machine- 
made  majorities,  ploughing  and  turning  it  up  to  the 
light  as  he  could. 

The  fiery  resolution  had  scarcely  been  taken  when 
he  heard  the  door  of  Collins's  outer  room  open  and 
close,  and  a  moment  later  the  good-looking  young 
stenographer  came  in,  bringing  a  breath  of  the  crisp 
autumn  evening  with  him. 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  back,  Mr.  Blount!"  he 
exclaimed.  "I  saw  the  office  lights  from  the  street, 


266    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  thought  somebody  had  left  them  turned  on.  Is 
there  anything  I  can  do?" 

"Yes;  sit  down,"  said  Blount  crisply,  and  then: 
"Collins,  what  do  you  do  with  yourself  when  I  am 
out  of  town?" 

"I  stay  here  most  of  the  time.  I  went  out  early 
this  afternoon,  but  I  don't  often  do  it." 

"Were  you  here  all  day  yesterday?" 

"Yes." 

"Was  there  anything  unusual  going  on?" 

The  young  man  looked  away  as  if  he  expected  to 
find  his  answer  in  the  farther  corner  of  the  room. 

"I  don't  know  as  you'd  call  it  unusual,"  he  replied 
half -hesitantly.  "There  were  a  good  many  callers. 
Shall  I  bring  you  the  list?" 

"Yes." 

The  stenographer  went  out  to  his  desk  and  brought 
back  a  slip  of  paper  with  the  names. 

"This  man  Gryson,"  said  Blount,  running  his  eye 
over  the  memorandum,  "I  see  you've  got  him  down 
four  or  five  times.  What  did  he  want?" 

"He  wouldn't  tell  me.  But  he  was  all  kinds  of 
anxious  to  see  you.  That  was  why  I  telegraphed  you; 
I  couldn't  get  rid  of  him  any  other  way." 

"Let  me  see  the  copy  of  the  message." 

Again  Collins  made  a  journey  to  his  desk,  return 
ing  with  the  telegraph-impression  book  open  at  the 
proper  page.  Blount  glanced  at  the  copy  of  the 
brief  message:  "Thomas  Gryson  wants  to  know  when 
he  can  be  sure  of  finding  you  here,"  and  handed  the 
book  back. 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  267 

"How  did  you  send  that?"  he  asked.    . 

"I  sent  it  down  to  the  despatched  office  by 
Barney." 

Blount  nodded.  The  message  had  not  reached 
him,  and  its  suppression  was  doubtless  another  move 
in  the  subtle  game. 

"You  say  you  couldn't  find  out  what  Gryson 
wanted?"  he  pressed. 

"He — he  seemed  to  be  all  torn  up  about  some 
thing;  couldn't  say  three  words  without  putting  a 
cuss  word  in  with  them.  The  most  I  could  get  out 
of  him  was  that  somebody  was  trying  to  double- 
cross  him." 

Blount  took  a  cigar  from  his  pocket  and  lighted 
it.  He  was  faint  for  lack  of  food,  but  he  absently 
mistook  the  hunger  for  the  tobacco  craving. 

"Collins,"  he  said  evenly,  "you  appear  to  forget 
at  times  that  you  are  working  for  a  man  who  has 
had  some  little  experience  with  unwilling  witnesses 
in  the  courts.  You  are  not  telling  me  the  truth; 
or,  at  least,  you're  not  telling  me  all  of  it.  Let's 
have  the  part  that  you  are  keeping  back." 

"The — the  last  time  he  was  in,  he — he  did  talk  a 
little,"  faltered  the  young  man.  "He's  got  some 
thing  to  sell,  and  he's  f -fighting  mad  at  Mr.  Kitt- 
redge.  He  said  he  was  going  to  throw  the  gaff  into 
somebody  damn'  quick  if  Mr.  Kittredge  didn't  wipe 
off  the  slate  and  c-come  across  with  the  price." 

"That  is  better,"  was  the  brief  comment.  "Now, 
then,  why  did  you  lie  to  me  in  the  first  place?" 

The  stenographer  shut  his  eyes  and  shrunk  lower 
in  his  chair,  but  he  made  no  reply. 


268    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I'll  tell  you  why  you  lied,"  Blount  went  on,  less 
harshly.  "It  was  because  you  were  told  to.  Isn't 
that  so?" 

Collins  nodded. 

Reaching  out  quickly,  Blount  laid  a  hand  on  the 
young  man's  knee.  "Fred,  what  do  you  think  of 
a  soldier  who  takes  his  pay  from  one  side  and  fights 
on  the  other?  That  is  what  you've  been  doing,  you 
know;  it  is  what  you  did  when  you  put  a  dozen 
sheets  of  blank  paper  into  an  envelope  the  other 
day — the  day  I  sent  you  to  get  a  file  of  letters 
marked  ' private'  from  the  safe." 

The  culprit  drew  away  from  the  touch  of  the  hand 
on  his  knee,  and  there  was  fear,  and  behind  the  fear 
the  courage  of  desperation,  in  his  eyes  when  he  lifted 
them. 

"You  can  give  me  the  third  degree  if  you  want 
to,  Mr.  Blount,  but  as  long  as  I've  got  the  breath 
to  say  no,  I'll  never  tell  you  the  next  thing  you're 
going  to  ask  me!" 

Blount  sprang  up  and  went  to  stand  at  the  win 
dow.  There  was  a  street  arc-lamp  swinging  in  its 
high  sling  some  distance  below  the  window  level,  its 
scintillant  spark  changing  weirdly  to  blue  and  green 
and  back  to  blinding  orange,  and  he  stared  so  steadily 
at  it  that  his  eyes  were  full  of  tears  when  he  turned 
to  look  down  upon  the  waiting  culprit. 

"No,  Collins;  I'm  not  going  to  ask  you  the  name 
of  the  other  master  for  whom  you  have  thrown  me 
down,"  he  said  gravely;  and  then:  "That's  all— 
you  may  go  now." 

The  young  man  got  up  and  groped  for  the  hat 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  269 

which  had  fallen  from  his  hands  to  the  floor  and 
rolled  away  out  of  reach. 

"You  mean  that  I'm  to  get  my  time-check?"  he 
asked. 

"No/7  he  grated — the  harshness  returning  sud 
denly.  "You  are  disloyal,  and  I  know  it;  your 
successor  would  probably  be  the  same,  and  I 
shouldn't  know  it." 

Nerved  to  the  strident  pitch  now  by  the  new 
resolution,  Blount  hurriedly  set  his  desk  in  order, 
slammed  it  shut,  and  followed  the  stenographer  to 
the  street  level.  In  the  avenue  he  hesitated  for  a 
moment,  the  thoughts  shuttling  swiftly.  In  a  flash 
the  inferences  fell  into  place.  Gantry  had  said  that 
his  father  was  responsible  for  the  time-killing  jour 
ney  to  Lewiston.  Why  had  it  been  necessary?  Was 
it  to  keep  him  out  of  Gryson's  way?  What  did  the 
ward-organizer  have  to  communicate  that  made  him 
so  anxious  to  secure  an  interview?  Was  that  anxi 
ety  the  breach  through  which  the  wider  field  of  cor 
ruption  might  be  reached? 

Again  swift  decision  came  to  its  own  and  Blount 
faced  to  the  right,  walking  rapidly  until  he  turned 
in  at  the  foot  of  the  worn  double  flight  of  stairs 
leading  to  the  editorial  rooms  of  The  Plainsman. 
Blenkinsop,  the  editor,  a  lean,  haggard  man  with  a 
sallow  face,  coarse  black  hair  worn  always  a  little 
longer  than  the  prevailing  cut,  and  deep-set,  gloomy 
eyes,  was  at  his  desk. 

"Can  you  give  me  a  few  minutes  of  your  time, 
Blenkinsop?"  the  caller  asked  shortly. 


270    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"I  can  sell  'em  to  you,  maybe/'  said  the  editor, 
and  the  lift  of  the  gloomy  eyes  merely  served  to 
turn  the  jest  into  a  bit  of  morbid  sarcasm.  Then 
he  gave  the  sarcasm  a  half -bitter  twist:  "You  rail 
road  gentlemen  are  always  willing  to  buy  what  you 
can't  reach  out  and  take." 

"I  know  that  is  what  you  believe,"  said  Blount, 
drawing  up  a  broken  chair  and  planting  himself 
carefully  in  it;  "we  are  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
fence  in  this  fight,  if  you  are  fighting  the  railroad 
merely  because  it  is  a  railroad;  otherwise,  perhaps, 
we  are  not  so  far  apart  as  we  might  be.  I  don't 
know  whether  or  not  you  have  listened  to  any  of 
my  speeches,  but  you've  printed  a  good  many  of 
them." 

The  editor  nodded.  "I've  read  'em,  and  I'm 
willing  to  be  the  hundredth  man  and  say  that  I  be 
lieve  you  are  individually  honest.  I  hope  you're 
not  going  to  ask  me  to  go  any  further  than 
that." 

"I'm  not;  I  came  for  quite  another  purpose. 
First,  let  me  ask  a  frank  question :  Is  The  Plainsman 
out  for  a  square  deal  all  around,  regardless  of  who 
may  be  hit?" 

Blenkinsop  took  time  to  consider  the  question  and 
his  answer,  chewing  thoughtfully  upon  his  extinct 
cigar  while  he  reflected. 

"This  is  straight  goods?"  he  asked  finally. 
"You're  not  trying  to  pull  me  into  an  admission 
that  can  be  used  against  us  a  little  later  on?" 

"At  the  present  moment  you  are  talking  to  Evan 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  271 

Blount,  the  man,  and  not  to  the  Transcontinental 
company's  lawyer,  Blenkinsop." 

" All  right;  then  I'll  tell  you  flat  that  we  are  out 
for  blood.  We  hold  no  brief  for  any  living  man. 
There  are  no  strings  tied  to  us,  and  we  wear  nobody's 
brass  collar." 

"Then  you  are  fighting  the  machine  as  well  as 
the  railroad?"  Blount  put  in  quickly. 

The  editor  sat  back  in  his  chair,  and  the  two  fur 
rows  which  deepened  upon  either  side  of  his  hard- 
bitted  mouth  answered  for  a  smile. 

"When  you  find  a  machine  that  hasn't  got 
'T-C.  R.'  lettered  on  it  somewhere,  you  let  us 
know  about  it,"  was  his  rather  cryptic  reply. 

"That  is  not  the  point,"  said  Blount  dryly. 
"Here  is  the  question  I  wanted  to  ask:  There  are 
only  five  days  intervening  before  the  election.  How 
wide  a  swath  could  you  cut  if  the  evidence  of  whole 
sale  corruption  could  be  placed  in  your  hands  within 
twenty-four  hours?" 

Again  the  editor  took  time  to  consider.  When  he 
spoke  it  was  to  say:  "I  can't  quite  believe  that  you 
are  going  to  be  disloyal  to  your  salt  at  this  late 
stage  of  the  game,  Blount.  Do  you  mean  that  you 
are  going  to  show  your  own  company  up  for  what 
it  really  is?" 

"Never  mind  about  that.  I  asked  a  question,  and 
you  haven't  answered  it." 

"It  was  a  question  of  time,  wasn't  it?  There's 
time  enough  to  tip  the  skillet  over  and  spill  all  the 
grease  into  the  fire,  if  that's  what  you  mean;  always 


272    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

time  enough,  up  to  the  last  issue  before  the  polls 
open." 

"And  you'd  do  it — no  matter  who  might  happen 
to  get  in  the  way  of  the  burning  grease?" 

"  We  print  the  news,  and  we  try  to  get  all  the  news 
there  is.  But  it  would  have  to  be  straight  goods, 
Blount;  no  'ifs'  and  Bands'  about  it.  I'm  not  say 
ing  that  you  couldn't  produce  the  goods,  you  know. 
If  you  could  break  into  Gantry's  and  Kittredge's 
private  files,  the  trick  would  be  turned.  But  I  know 
well  enough  you're  not  going  to  do  that." 

Blount  got  up  out  of  the  broken  chair  and  but 
toned  his  coat. 

"I  needn't  take  any  more  of  your  time  just  now," 
he  said.  "I  merely  wanted  to  know  how  far  you'd 
go  if  somebody  should  happen  along  at  the  last  mo 
ment  and  give  you  a  plain  map  of  the  road." 

"We'll  go  as  far,  and  drive  as  hard,  as  any  news 
paper  this  side  of  the  Missouri  River.  But  we've 
got  to  have  the  facts — don't  forget  that." 

Blount  was  turning  to  go,  but  he  faced  around 
again  sharply. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Blenkinsop,  that  you 
don't  know,  as  well  as  you  know  you're  alive,  that 
this  campaign  is  honeycombed  with  deals  and  trades 
and  dishonesty  and  trickery  in  every  legislative  dis 
trict?"  he  demanded. 

Again  the  ghastly  smile  which  was  only  a  deepen 
ing  of  the  natural  furrows  flitted  across  the  editor's 
face. 

"Of  course,  I  know  it,"  he  returned.     "But  you'll 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  273 

excuse  me  if  I  say  that  I  scarcely  expected  to  have 
the  railroad  company's  field-manager  come  and  tell 
me  about  it." 

Blount's  grim  smile  was  a  match  for  the  editorial 
face- wrinkling.  "You  are  like  a  good  many  others, 
Blenkinsop;  you  see  red  when  you  hear  the  noise 
of  a  railroad  train.  Perhaps,  a  little  later,  I  may 
be  able  to  persuade  you  to  see  another  color — yellow, 
for  example.  Let  it  go  at  that.  Good-night." 

Once  more  in  the  avenue,  Blount  turned  his  steps 
toward  the  Inter-Mountain.  Since  the  campaign 
was  now  in  its  final  week,  the  clans  were  gathering 
in  the  capital,  and  the  lobby  of  the  great  hotel  was 
filled  with  groups  of  caucussing  politicians.  Blount 
was  halted  half  a  dozen  times  before  he  could  make 
his  way  to  the  room-clerk's  desk,  and  the  pumping 
process  to  which  he  was  subjected  at  each  fresh  stop 
page  would  have  amused  him  if  the  fiery  resolution 
which  was  driving  him  on  had  not  temporarily 
killed  his  sense  of  humor.  It  was  evident  that,  in 
spite  of  all  he  had  been  saying  and  doing,  a  consid 
erable  majority  of  the  caucussers  were  still  regarding 
him  as  his  father's  lieutenant.  He  did  not  try  very 
hard  to  remove  the  impression.  It  mattered  little, 
in  the  present  crisis,  what  the  various  party  hench 
men  thought  or  believed. 

It  was  a  sharp  disappointment  when  the  room- 
clerk  told  him  that  his  father  and  Mrs.  Honoria  and 
their  guest  had  gone  to  the  theatre.  He  was  keyed 
to  the  fighting-pitch,  and  he  wanted  to  have  the 
deciding  word  spoken  while  his  blood  was  up  and 


274    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

there  was  still  time  to  act.  A  glance  at  the  clock 
showed  him  that  he  had  a  full  half -hour  to  wait;  and, 
as  much  to  escape  the  buzzing  lobbyists  as  to  satisfy 
his  hunger,  he  went  to  the  cafe  and  ordered  a  be 
lated  dinner,  choosing  a  table  from  which  he  could 
look  out  through  the  open  doors  and  command  the 
main  entrance  through  which  the  theatre-goers  would 
return. 

He  was  through  with  the  dinner,  and  was  slowly 
sipping  his  black  coffee,  when  he  saw  them  come  in. 
Since  it  was  no  part  of  his  plan  to  dull  the  edge  of 
opportunity  by  holding  it  first  upon  the  social  grind 
stone,  he  let  the  party  of  three  go  on  to  the  elevators, 
and  a  little  later  sent  a  card  up- stairs  asking  his  father 
to  meet  him  in  the  lounge  on  the  mezzanine  floor. 

Having  the  advantage  of  time,  he  was  first  at  the 
appointed  meeting-place.  He  had  drawn  a  chair 
to  the  balustrade,  and  was  glocming  thoughtfully 
down  at  the  lobby  gathering,  upon  which  even  the 
lateness  of  the  hour  appeared  to  have  no  dispersing 
effect,  when  a  mellow  voice  behind  him  said:  "Well, 
son,  taking  a  quiet  little  squint  at  the  menagerie?  " 

Blount  got  up  and  gave  the  speaker  his  chair, 
dragging  up  another  for  himself.  The  senator  sat 
down  and  stretched  his  great  frame  like  a  man 
wearied.  "  Ah,  Lord !  "  he  said.  "The  old  man  isn't 
as  young  as  he  used  to  be,  Evan,  boy.  There  was 
a  time  once  when  eleven  o'clock  didn't  seem  any 
later  to  me  than  it  does  now  to  you;  but  it's  gone 
by,  son,  and  I  don't  reckon  it'll  ever  come  back 
again." 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  275 

Blount  drew  his  chair  nearer.  "I  have  a  hard 
thing  to  say  to  you  to-night,  dad/'  he  began,  "and 
you  mustn't  make  it  harder  by  speaking  of  your — 
of  the  things  that  get  near  to  me.  I  am  a  man 
grown,  and  a  Blount,  like  yourself;  I  want  you  to 
give  me  back  those  papers  which  your  dynamiter 
or  somebody  else  in  your  pay  took  from  my  office 
safe  three  nights  ago." 

The  senator's  eyes  lighted  with  the  gentle  smile, 
and  the  tips  of  the  great  mustaches  twitched  slightly. 

"So  McVickar's  been  telling  tales  out  of  school, 
has  he?"  he  inquired  half -jocularly. 

"I  have  had  no  communication  with  Mr.  Mc- 
Vickar.  It  wasn't  necessary,  nor  is  it  needful  for 
us  to  go  aside  out  of  the  straight  road.  I  want  those 
papers.  They  are  mine,  and  they  were  stolen." 

The  elder  man  smiled  again.  "What  if  I  should 
say  that  I  haven't  got  'em,  son — what  then?"  he 
asked  mildly. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  say  that.  I  want  to  believe 
that,  however  bitter  this  fight  may  grow,  we  shall 
still  speak  the  truth  to  each  other." 

There  was  silence  for  a  little  time,  and  then  the 
father  broke  it  to  say:  "Reckon  I  could  ask  you 
what  papers  you  mean,  without  roiling  the  water 
any  more  than  it's  already  been  roiled,  son?" 

"You  may  ask  and  I'll  answer,  if  you'll  let  me  say 
that  it  is  hardly  worth  while  for  you  to  spar  with  me 
to  gain  time.  I  had  certain  documents — letters — 
which  would  have  enabled  me  to  come  through  clean 
with  my  own  people — with  the  railroad  management. 


276    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

You  knew  I  had  them;  I  was  imprudent  enough  to 
boast  of  it  one  evening  when  we  were  dining  together 
in  your  rooms.  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about, 
dad,  when  I  make  this  demand  of  you.  One  of  my 
clerks  has  been  tampered  with.  Three  days  ago, 
when  I  asked  him  to  bring  me  the  letters  from  the 
safe,  he  brought  me,  instead,  a  packet  of  blank 
paper  which  he  allowed  me  to  go  and  lock  up  in 
my  safety-box  in  the  Sierra  National.  I  don't  know 
why  you  had  the  safe  blown  up,  unless  it  was  to 
save  Collins' s  face." 

Again  a  silence  intervened,  and  in  the  midst  of 
it  the  senator  sat  up  and  began  to  feel  half-absently 
in  his  pockets  for  a  cigar.  Blount  offered  his  own 
pocket-case,  following  it  with  the  tender  of  a  lighted 
match.  With  the  cigar  going,  the  Honorable  David 
settled  back  in  the  deep  chair,  chuckling  thought 
fully. 

"They  wrote  me  from  back  yonder  on  the  Eastern 
edge  of  things  that  you  had  the  makings  of  a  mighty 
fine  lawyer  in  you,  boy,  and  I'll  be  switched  if  I 
don't  believe  they  had  it  about  right.  The  way 
you've  trailed  this  thing  out  doesn't  leave  the  old 
man  a  hole  as  big  as  a  dog-burrow  to  crawl  out  of, 
does  it,  now?  Reckon  you've  sure-enough  got  to 
have  those  papers  back  before  you  can  go  on,  do 
you?" 

"You  know  I  must.  You  know  what  I've  been 
preaching  and  talking :  I  have  meant  every  word  of  it 
in  good  faith,  and  when  I  began  to  doubt  the  good 
faith  of  those  behind  me,  I  was  forced  to  cast  about 


A  STONE  FOR  BREAD  277 

for  a  weapon.  It  was  handed  to  me  almost  miracu 
lously,  and  as  long  as  I  held  it  my  good  name  before 
the  people  of  the  State  was  safe. '  As  the  matter 
stands  now,.  I'm  a  broken  man,  dad.  After  the 
election  I  shall  be  billeted  from  one  end  of  the  State 
to  the  other  as  the  most  shameless  liar  that  ever 
breathed!" 

The  senator  was  rocking  his  great  head  slowly 
upon  the  chair-pillow.  " That's  bad;  that's  mighty 
bad,  son.  I  reckon  we'll  have  to  fix  some  way  to 
trail  you  out  of  that  bog-hole,  sure  enough!" 

"I'm  not  asking  for  help;  I'm  asking  for  bare  jus 
tice.  Give  me  those  papers  and  I'll  fight  myself 
clear." 

"And  if  I  say  I  can't  give  'em  to  you,  Evan,  boy, 
what  then?" 

"Then,  hard  and  unfilial  as  it  may  seem  to  you, 
I  shall  fight  you  and  your  machine  to  a  finish.  You 
think  I  can't  do  it?  I'll  show  you.  I've  got  five 
days,  and  they  are  all  my  own.  This  campaign  has 
been  rotten  to  the  core  from  the  very  beginning. 
You  have  tried  to  keep  me  from  finding  it  out,  and 
you  have  partly  succeeded.  But  I  know  a  little,  and 
inside  of  the  next  twenty-four  hours  I  shall  know 
more.  That's  my  last  word,  dad,  and  it  breaks  my 
heart  to  have  to  say  it.  But,  by  the  God  who  made 
us  both,  if  you  drive  me  to  it,  I  shall  stir  up  such  a 
revolution  in  this  State  that  the  people  will  forget 
to  curse  me  for  the  lies  I  have  been  allowed  to  tell 
them!" 

Blount  was  upon  his  feet  when  he  finished,  and 


278    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

the  senator  was  rising  stiffly  from  the  depths  of  the 
big  chair. 

"That's  good,  man-sized  talk,  son,"  he  com 
mented  gently,  "and  I  reckon  I  haven't  a  word  to 
say  against  it.  All  I'm  going  to  beg  for  is  this: 
we're  kin,  boy — mighty  close  kin.  Belt  away  as 
hard  as  you  like  in  the  big  scrap;  it  does  me  good 
to  see  that  all  these  little  Eastern  frills  haven't 
made  you  any  less  a  two-fisted,  hard-hitting  Blount; 
but  don't  let  it  make  you  turn  your  back  when 
your  old  daddy  comes  into  the  room.  That's  all  I 
ask.  Now  you'd  better  go  to  bed  and  sleep  up 
some.  There's  another  day  coming,  and  if  there 
isn't,  none  of  these  little  things  we've  been  haggling 
over  is  going  to  count  for  much  to  any  of  us." 

Three  minutes  later  the  Honorable  Senator  Sage- 
Brush  was  letting  himself  into  the  sitting-room  of 
his  suite  on  the  private  dining-room  floor  by  means 
of  his  night-key.  The  small  person  whom  Gantry 
and  a  few  others  were  still  calling  the  court  of  last 
resort  was  sitting  up,  and  the  tiny  embroidery- 
frame  on  the  table  had  evidently  just  been  laid 
aside. 

"Well?"  she  said  inquiringly. 

The  senator  shook  his  head  in  patient  tolerance. 

"Whatever  you've  been  doing,  it's  knocked  the 
bottom  clean  out  for  the  boy,  Honoria.  For  a  little 
spell  he  had  me  going,  and  I  thought  I'd  just  natu 
rally  have  to  turn  loose  and  spill  all  the  fat  into  the 
fire." 

"You  mustn't  do  that,"  she  returned  quickly. 


A   STONE   FOR   BREAD  279 

"There  are  five  days  yet,  and  I  need  at  least  three 
of  them.  He  was  very  angry?" 

"Fighting  mad." 

"Of  course/'  said  the  small  one  thoughtfully. 
"But  we  can't  allow  that  to  get  in  the  way  of  the 
bigger  things.  It  won't  make  any  family  break,  will 
it?  For  Patricia's  sake  I  shall  be  sorry  if  he  is 
desperate  enough  to  make  the  quarrel  a  personal 


one." 


"I  did  the  best  I  could  on  that,  little  woman,  and 
,  I  reckon  he's  big  enough  to  keep  on  telling  us 
' Howdy.'  What  comes  next  on  the  programme?" 

"To-morrow  I'm  going  to  try  to  get  him  to  take 
Patricia  driving.  Beyond  that  I  haven't  planned, 
and  anyway  it  doesn't  matter,  now  that  you  have 
Gryson  out  of  the  way."  Then  she  offered  a  bit 
of  news.  "Richard  Gantry  telephoned  me  a  few 
minutes  ago.  He  has  sent  in  his  resignation,  and  is 
going  to  Peru." 

The  senator  was  opening  the  door  to  the  adjoin 
ing  bedroom  and  turning  on  the  lights. 

"Oh,  no,  I  reckon  not,"  he  rejoined,  with  a  mel 
low  laugh  rumbling  deep  in  his  great  body.  "Dick 
only  thinks  he  is  going  to  Peru.  We  all  think  such 
things  now  and  then." 


XXI 

THE  UNDER-DOG 

BLOUNT'S  first  move  on  the  morning  following  the 
militant  interview  with  his  father  was  telegraphic; 
he  wired  the  campaign  chairmen  in  the  three  towns 
remaining  on  his  list,  cancelling  his  speaking-engage 
ments.  Beyond  that  he  went  forth  to  institute  a 
painstaking  search  in  the  purlieus  of  the  city,  a  quest 
having  for  its  object  the  unearthing  of  the  man 
Thomas  Gryson.  More  and  more  he  was  coming  to 
believe  that  this  man  was  the  key  to  a  larger  situ 
ation  in  the  field  of  political  corruption  than  any 
which  had  as  yet  developed.  Wherefore  he  made 
the  search  thorough. 

Oddly  enough,  considering  the  man  and  his  hab 
its,  the  quest  proved  fruitless.  Blount  was  too  clean 
a  man  to  be  on  familiar  terms  with  the  saloon  men 
and  dive-keepers  of  the  capital- city  underworld,  or 
with  the  crooks  and  turnings  of  the  underworld  it 
self;  but  he  found  his  way  around  easily  enough  in 
daylight,  and  had  his  labor  for  his  pains.  For  when 
he  went  back  to  the  hotel  at  the  luncheon-hour  he 
brought  little  with  him  save  a  stench  in  his  nostrils 
and  a  slightly  increased  fund  of  mystification.  Gry- 

280 


THE  UNDER-DOG  281 

son  had  disappeared  as  completely  as  if  the  earth 
had  opened  and  swallowed  him.  And  Blount  knew 
the  disappearance  was  real,  because  the  ward-heeler's 
own  henchmen  were  searching  for  him. 

Daunted  but  not  beaten,  Blount  meant  to  con 
tinue  the  quest  in  the  afternoon.  But  man  proposes, 
and  a  small  dea  ex  machina  may  dispose.  At  the 
cafe  family  luncheon,  at  which  Blount  was  careful 
to  make  his  appearance,  not  only  because  Patricia 
was  there,  but  also  for  the  sake  of  keeping  the  kins 
man  peace  his  father  had  begged  for,  it  transpired 
that  Patricia  had  been  promised  an  auto  drive  to 
Fort  Parker,  the  military  reservation  sixteen  miles 
to  the  westward,  and  that  there  were  difficulties. 
The  senator's  wife  took  his  arm  and  explained  her 
dilemma  at  the  table  dispersal. 

"It  is  parade  day  at  the  Fort,  you  know,  and 
Patricia  has  set  her  heart  on  going.  I  don't  know 
how  I  came  to  be  so  absurdly  thoughtless,  but  I 
promised  her  before  I  remembered  that  this  is  the 
Kismet  Club  election  afternoon,  and  if  I  don't  go, 
they'll  make  me  president  again  in  spite  of  every 
thing,"  she  said  in  low  tones  as  they  were  leaving 
the  cafe.  "I  simply  can't  serve  another  year;  and 
at  the  same  time,  I  do  so  dislike  to  disappoint  Pa 
tricia.  She  is  such  a  dear  girl!"  Mrs.  Honoria  was 
strictly  within  the  bounds  of  truth  in  claiming  to 
have  forgotten  the  date  of  the  Kismet  election  of 
officers;  but  it  was  equally  true  that  the  club  would 
re-elect  her,  present  or  absent,  since  she  was  its 
founder  and  chief  patroness. 


282    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Blount  saw  the  pointing  of  all  this  with  perfect 
clarity,  and  he  had  no  need  to  assure  himself  that 
it  had  every  ear-mark  of  another  expedient  to  get 
him  out  of  the  way.  But  while  he  was  with  Mrs. 
Honoria  and  listening  to  her  persuasive  little  ap 
peals  it  was  much  harder  to  maintain  the  antag 
onistic  attitude  than  it  was  when  she  figured — at 
a  distance — merely  as  his  father's  second  wife  and 
his  mother's  supplanter.  Foolish?  Oh,  yes;  but  at 
times  when  the  star  of  impulse  is  in  the  ascendant 
every  man  hath  a  fool  in  his  sleeve. 

"It  is  too  bad  to  disappoint  her,"  he  found  himself 
saying,  matching  the  little  lady's  low  tone.  "If  I 
wasn't  so  terribly  busy ' 

"I  know;  and  just  now,  with  the  election  so  near, 
you  must  be  busier  than  ever.  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  explain  to  Patricia,  and  it  hurts  me,  when 
she  is  going  home  so  soon." 

"Going  home?"  echoed  the  victim. 

"Yes;  in  a  few  days  now.  The  professor  has 
already  overstayed  his  leave  of  absence,  so  he  says." 

Blount  clenched  a  figurative  fist  and  shook  it  sav 
agely  at  an  unkind  fate.  Nevertheless,  he  fell. 

"If  you  can  shift  your  responsibility  to  my  shoul 
ders,  Mrs.  Blount — "  he  began,  but  she  would  not 
let  him  finish. 

"Oh!  that  is  so  good  of  you,  Evan.  Take  the 
little  car,  and  be  sure  to  ask  the  garage  man  to  put 
in  new  batteries.  The  magneto  isn't  working  very 
well.  And  be  here  by  half  past  one  if  you  can. 
The  parade  is  at  half  past  two,  you  know." 


THE  UNDER-DOG  283 

Under  other  conditions  the  railroad  company's 
"social  secretary/'  as  the  society  editors  of  the  capi 
tal  were  still  calling  him,  might  have  had  a  joyous 
half-holiday.  The  autumn  afternoon  was  picture- 
fine,  the  little  car  ran  well,  and  Patricia's  mood  was 
tempered  with  the  gayety  which  strives  to  extract 
the  final  thrill  of  enjoyment  out  of  the  closing  days 
of  a  delightful  vacation.  Blount  was  grateful  for 
the  light-hearted  mood.  He  felt  that  it  would  be 
next  to  impossible  to  tell  Patricia  how  wretchedly 
he  had  failed  in  the  single-handed  crusade,  and,  as 
to  the  desperate  alternative,  there  could  be  no  con 
fidences  with  one  whose  every  reference  to  his  father 
was  shot  through  with  loving  and  loyal  admiration. 

At  the.  military  reservation  there  were  fewer  op 
portunities  for  the  confidences,  or  rather  fewer  temp 
tations  to  indulge  in  them.  It  was  a  gala  day  at 
the  post,  and  there  were  a  number  of  auto  parties 
out  from  the  city.  Blount  knew  most  of  the  officers 
and  their  wives,  and  Patricia  was  welcomed  not  less 
for  her  own  sake  than  for  the  reason  that  she  had 
figured  in  former  visits  as  the  protegee  of  an  ex-sena 
tor's  wife.  After  the  parade  there  was  an  impromptu 
game  of  baseball,  with  the  broad  verandas  of  the 
officers'  quarters  serving  for  the  grandstand.  Be 
yond  the  game  there  was  tea,  and  the  sunset  gun 
had  been  fired  before  the  young  lieutenant,  who  had 
attached  himself  to  Miss  Anners  at  the  earliest  pos 
sible  moment  in  the  afternoon,  reluctantly  surren 
dered  his  prize  and  handed  Patricia  into  the  waiting 
runabout  for  the  return  to  the  capital. 


284    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"We  shall  be  late  for  dinner,  if  we  don't  hurry," 
was  the  young  woman's  comment  when  Blount 
steered  the  little  car  clear  of  the  post  settlement  and 
took  the  road  well  in  the  wake  of  the  Weatherford 
touring  machine.  Then  she  added:  "We  mustn't 
be;  we  are  dining  out  this  evening — at  the  Gordons. " 

Blount  was  entirely  willing  to  hurry.  Half  of  one 
of  the  precious  days  of  challenge  had  been  wasted 
in  the  futile  search  for  Gryson,  and  here  was  the 
other  half  worse  than  wasted,  since  the  handsome 
young  lieutenant  had  so  brazenly  monopolized  Pa 
tricia. 

"I'll  get  you  home  in  time  for  dinner,  never  fear," 
he  returned,  but  apparently  the  little  car  was  no 
party  to  the  promise.  A  short  mile  from  the  res 
ervation  the  motor  began  to  miss,  and  a  few  minutes 
farther  along  it  stopped  altogether.  Blount  got  out 
and  began  to  investigate.  There  was  plenty  of  gas 
olene,  but  the  spark  appeared  to  be  dead. 

"I  ought  to  have  a  leather  medal!"  he  confided 
to  Patricia,  in  great  disgust.  "Mrs.  Blount  told 
me  that  the  batteries  needed  to  be  changed,  and  I 
had  them  changed,  but  neglected  to  have  them 
tested.  Sit  still  and  let  me  spin  it  on  the  magneto 
a  while." 

She  let  him  do  it  until  the  perspiration  was  stand 
ing  in  fine  little  beads  on  his  forehead  and  he  was 
hot  and  desperate.  Then  she  said  sweetly :  "I  don't 
believe  I'd  wear  myself  out  that  way,  if  I  were  you, 
Evan.  Something  happened  to  the  magneto  two 
or  three  weeks  ago,  and  it  has  never  been  fixed." 


THE  UNDER-DOG  285 

Blount  pushed  his  driving-cap  back,  mopped  his 
face,  and  came  around  to  dive  once  more  into  the 
wiring  in  the  battery  box.  Dusk  was  coming  on, 
and  he  had  to  light  one  of  the  side-lamps  to  serve 
as  a  lantern.  By  changing  the  wiring  he  was  finally 
able  to  evoke  a  desultory  response  from  the  spark- 
coil,  and  a  little  later  to  start  the  motor  after  some 
limping  fashion. 

"Oh,  my  poor  dinner!"  said  Miss  Anners,  who  was 
still  in  the  light-hearted  mood;  this  after  Blount's 
careful  nursing  had  resulted  in  a  creeping  resump 
tion  of  the  cityward  progress.  And  then:  "I  hope 
you  didn't  have  any  engagement  for  this  evening?" 

"I  have  but  one  ambition  in  life,"  he  rejoined 
grimly,  "and  that  is  to  get  you  back  to  the  hotel 
in  time  for  your  engagement.  Surely  Mrs.  Blount 
will  wait  for  you." 

At  the  rate  they  were  going  the  waiting  promised 
to  be  long.  But  after  another  half -hour  had  been 
killed,  the  headlights  of  a  westward-driven  car  ap 
peared  in  the  road  ahead.  Blount  pulled  quickly 
into  the  ditch  and  jumped  out  to  flag  the  oncoming 
machine;  did  flag  it,  and  was  able  to  borrow  a  set 
of  batteries.  With  the  new  equipment  the  remainder 
of  the  drive  was  accomplished  swiftly,  but  not  swiftly 
enough.  At  the  Inter-Mountain  they  found  that 
the  senator  and  Mrs.  Honoria  had  gone  to  keep  their 
dinner  engagement,  and  a  note  in  the  little  lady's 
copperplate  handwriting  informed  Blount  that  the 
invitation  had  been  made  to  include  him,  and  that 
he  was  to  hurry  and  bring  Patricia. 


286    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Fully  alive  now  to  the  time-killing  purpose  of  the 
clever  little  machinator  in  arranging  to  have  spent 
batteries  given  him,  Blount,  nevertheless,  did  his 
duty  like  a  man,  and  the  pair  made  a  late  descent 
upon  the  Gordon  dinner-table.  Though  the  dinner 
was  informal,  there  were  other  guests  besides  the 
senator's  party,  and  among  them  the  traffic  manager. 
Blount,  sitting  next  to  Patricia,  made  their  tardiness 
an  excuse  and  devoted  himself  to  her,  thus  escaping 
the  toils  of  the  general  table-talk,  which  was  frankly 
political.  But  at  the  adjournment  to  the  drawing- 
room  he  cornered  Gantry. 

"  I  meant  to  hunt  you  up  this  afternoon, "  he  began, 
"but  I  was  otherwise  spoken  for.  What  have  you 
done?" 

"I've  cabled  a  conditional  acceptance  of  the  offer 
I  was  telling  you  about." 

"But  you  haven't  resigned?" 

"No.  Mr.  McVickar  will  probably  be  here  within 
a  day  or  two,  and  I'll  make  it  verbal." 

Yielding  to  the  urgings  of  the  younger  Gordon, 
Patricia  was  going  to  the  piano,  and  Blount  snatched 
at  his  opportunity. 

"Give  me  a  few  minutes  in  the  smoking-room," 
he  said  to  the  traffic  manager,  and  when  the  privacy 
was  secured:  "You  needn't  resign,  Dick.  There 
isn't  going  to  be  any  earthquake — of  the  kind  you 
were  fearing." 

"You  don't  mean  that  the  Honorable  Senator  has 
turned  you  down,  Evan?" 

"Just  that." 


THE  UNDER-DOG  287 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  the  friend  in  need,  feeling  his 
way  cautiously.  Then  he  added:  "You  needn't 
tell  me  anything  more  than  you  want  to,  you  know." 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell.  I  asked  for  bare  jus 
tice,  and  it  was  refused." 

"Your  father  has  the  papers?" 

"He  neither  admitted  nor  denied." 

"But  you  didn't  quarrel?" 

Blount's  smile  was  mirthless.  "We  are  here  to 
gether,  as  you  see.  After  all  is  said,  we  are  still 
father  and  son." 

"Of  course;  that's  as  it  should  be,  Evan.  What 
are  you  going  to  do?" 

"I  don't  know:  go  on  fighting  until  I'm  wiped 
out,  I  suppose.  And  that  reminds  me:  have  you 
seen  that  fellow  Gryson  within  the  last  day  or  two?" 

Gantry  dropped  into  the  depths  of  a  lounging- 
chair  and  lighted  a  cigarette.  "So  you're  after 
Thomas  Matthew,  too,  are  you?  Kittredge  has  been 
ransacking  the  town  for  him  all  day,  and  up  to  a 
couple  of  hours  ago  he  hadn't  found  him.  What's 
in  the  wind?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  mean  to  find  out.  What 
can  you  tell  me  about  Gryson — more  than  you  have 
already  told  me?" 

"Not  very  much,  I  guess.  He's  a  scalawag,  of 
course,  but  unhappily  for  all  of  us  he  is  a  scalawag 
with  a  pull.  Kittredge  has  been  dickering  with  him 
— I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  now." 

"What  is  the  nature  of  the  pull?" 

"Votes,"  said  Gantry  succinctly. 


288    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Straight  or  crooked?" 

"You  may  search  me.  But  knowing  Tom  Gry- 
son  a  little,  I  should  put  my  money  on  the  marked 
card." 

"Naturally,"  said  Blount  dryly.  "  Still,  I  am  need 
ing  to  be  shown.  I've  had  two  or  three  chances 
to  size  Gryson  up,  and  he  didn't  impress  me  as  a 
man  with  any  ability  beyond  the  requirements  of  a 
bully  and  the  lowest  type  of  a  political  heeler." 

"Tom  is  bigger  than  that;  I  don't  know  how 
much  bigger,  but  some.  He  has  votes  to  sell,  and 
Kittredge,  at  least,  seems  to  believe  that  he  can 
deliver  the  goods.  I  don't  know  the  inside  of  the 
deal.  I'll  tell  you  frankly  that  I  tried  to  shove  it 
over  to  you,  neck  and  heels,  at  first.  When  that 
little  notion  failed,  I  pushed  it  along  to  Kittredge." 

Blount's  eyebrows,  which  promised  in  time  to  be 
as  portentous  as  the  Honorable  Senator's,  met  in  a 
frown.  "I'm  going  to  find  Gryson,  dead  or  alive," 
he  said. 

Gantry  looked  up  quickly. 

"Which  means  that  you  know  what  has  become 
of  him?" 

"He  has  been  put  out  of  the  way  for  a  purpose, 
and  the  purpose  is  to  keep  me  from  finding  out 
something  that  Gryson  wants  to  tell  me.  That  was 
the  animus  of  the  scheme  to  send  me  on  a  fool's 
errand  to  Lewiston.  After  you  left  me  last  night  I 
found  out  that  Gryson  had  been  worrying  Collins 
the  day  before;  had  been  in  the  office  a  number  of 
times  and  was  sweatingly  anxious  about  something." 


THE  UNDER-DOG  289 

Gantry  flung  his  cigarette  away  and  lighted  an 
other.  After  a  deep  inhalation  or  two  he  said:  "Let 
it  alone,  Evan.  I  have  a  hunch  that  you'll  be  hap 
pier  if  you  don't  try  to  drag  the  cover  off  of  that 
particular  cesspool." 

"Listen,"  said  Blount  shortly.  "When  my  father 
turned  me  down  last  night  I  told  him  that  I  still 
had  five  days  in  which  to " 

"I  know,"  Gantry  nodded.  "Just  the  same, 
you're  not  going  to  do  it." 

"If  I  don't,  it  will  be  because  I  can't;  because 
the  time  is  too  short."  Then,  with  a  sudden  and 
impulsive  gesture  of  appeal:  "Dick,  for  Heaven's 
sake  help  me  to  find  that  man  Gryson,  if  you  know 
where  he  is  1  I  shall  blow  up  if  I  can't  do  something !" 

Gantry  rose  and  tossed  the  second  cigarette  among 
the  coals  in  the  grate. 

"I've  been  afraid  all  along  that  they'd  corner  you 
and  beat  you  to  death  with  feather-dusters,"  he  la 
mented.  "And  the  only  thing  I  can  say  will  make 
matters  worse  instead  of  better.  I  have  it  pretty 
straight  that  Gryson  has  been  fired — shooed  out  of 
town,  and  probably  out  of  the  State." 

"Who  did  it,  Gantry?" 

"There  is  only  one  man  in  this  bailiwick  who  can 
take  the  whip  to  a  fellow  like  Tom  Gryson.  I  guess 
I  don't  need  to  name  him  for  you,  Evan." 

Blount  got  out  of  his  chair  and  stood  with  his 
back  to  the  fire,  and  his  face  was  white. 

"Good  God!  the  rottenness  of  it,  Dick!"  he 
groaned.  And  then:  "I've  got  to  get  out  of  this 


290    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  begin  all  over  again  in  some  corner  of  the  world 
where  at  least  one  man  in  ten  hasn't  forgotten  the 
meaning  of  common  honesty  and  decency  and  fair 
dealing.  Heaven  knows  I'm  no  saint,  but  if  I  stay 
here  this  cursed  crookedness  will  get  into  my  blood 
and  I'll  be  just  as  degraded  as  the  worst  of  them. 
No,  I'm  not  raving;  there  have  been  times  when 
I've  felt  myself  slipping — times  when  I've  been 
tempted  to  get  down  and  fight  with  the  weapons 
that  everybody  fights  with  in  this  God-forsaken, 
law-breaking,  graft-ridden  commonwealth!" 

Gantry  had  risen  and  he  was  slowly  shaking  his 
head. 

"You're  hot  now — and  with  good  enough  cause, 
I  guess.  But  that  sort  of  a  temperature  makes  a 
man  near-sighted  and  color-blind.  Human  nature 
is  pretty  much  the  same  the  world  over,  Evan,  and 
if  you  could  see  beyond  the  crookedness  you'd  find 
a  lot  of  good  people  out  here,  averaging  about  the 
same  as  the  decent  majority  anywhere.  It's  an  in 
articulate  majority  generally;  it  doesn't  stand  up 
on  its  hind  legs  and  rear  around  and  call  attention 
to  itself — couldn't  if  it  should  try.  But  it's  here 
and  there  and  everywhere  in  America,  just  the 
same.  A  railroad  car  with  one  drunken  fool  in  it 
gives  you  the  idea.  You  focus  on  him  and  say, 
'What  a  beastly  shame!'  and  you  entirely  overlook 
the  other  fifty-odd  people  in  the  car  who  are  quietly 
minding  their  own  business." 

Blount's  smile  was  for  the  man  rather  than  for 
the  theory. 


THE  UNDER-DOG  291 

"You  are  an  implacable  optimist,  Dick,  and  you 
always  have  been/'  he  returned.  "Your  theory  is 
good  humanitarianism,  and  I  wish  I  could  accept 
it  as  applying  to  this  abandoned  community  out 
here  in  my  native  hills;  but  I  can't.  Let's  go  back 
to  the  others.  We've  established  a  sort  of  family 
modus  vivendi,  my  father  and  I,  and  I  don't  want 
him  to  think  that  I'm  breaking  it  by  plotting  with 
you." 

It  was  while  the  evening  was  still  measurably 
young  that  Blount  made  his  excuses  to  his  hostess 
and  got  away,  fondly  believing  that  he  was  esca 
ping  without  attracting  the  attention  of  the  small 
lady  who  was  deep  in  a  political  discussion  with 
candidate  Gordon  at  the  critical  moment.  He  was 
mistaken,  but  the  escape  was  not  interrupted.  At 
the  curb  the  Blount  touring-car  was  waiting,  with 
two  others,  and  for  an  instant  Blount  hesitated, 
half  inclined  to  ask  his  father's  chauffeur  to  drive 
him  down-town.  On  such  inconsequent  pivots  fate, 
or  accident,  twirls  the  most  momentous  affairs  of 
life.  If  Blount  had  taken  the  car  he  would  have 
been  driven  directly  to  the  hotel.  As  it  was,  he 
walked,  and  in  passing  the  Temple  Court  Building 
he  remembered  that  he  had  not  seen  his  mail  since 
early  morning. 

Rousing  the  sleepy  boy  in  charge  of  the  all-night 
elevator,  he  had  himself  lifted  to  his  office  floor. 
The  upper  corridor  was  dimly  lighted,  and  on  leaving 
the  car  he  went  directly  to  the  door  of  his  private 
room,  walking  swiftly  and  neither  seeing  nor  hear- 


292    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

ing  a  man  who,  materializing  mysteriously  out  of 
the  corridor  shadows,  followed  him  step  by  step. 

In  the  office  Blount  snapped  the  lights  on  and 
turned  to  unlock  his  desk.  As  the  key  clicked  in  the 
lock  the  sixth  sense,  which  is  perhaps  only  a  min 
gling  of  the  subtler  essences  of  the  other  five,  warned 
him  sharply,  and  he  wheeled  to  face  the  door  which 
had  been  left  on  the  latch.  As  he  looked,  the  door 
opened  silently  and  the  materializing  shadow,  hag 
gard  of  face  and  with  bloodshot  eyes  mirroring  blind 
rage  and  the  terror  of  a  cornered  rat,  slipped  into  the 
room  and  stood  warily  aside  out  of  the  direct  light 
from  the  electric  chandelier.  Blount  looked  again 
and  swore  softly.  The  dodging  intruder  was  the 
man  Thomas  Gryson. 


XXII 

THE  ICONOCLAST 

IT  is  a  threadbare  saying  that  the  environment 
moulds  the  man.  Yet,  much  more  than  the  philos 
ophers  have  contended,  there  are  chameleon  tenden 
cies  in  the  strongest  character,  and  one  finely  deter 
mining  to  coerce  his  surroundings  is  quite  likely  to 
end  by  realizing  that  the  surroundings  have  appealed 
to  unsuspected  color-changings  in  himself.  Thus  it 
may  chance  that  the  fairest  fighter,  finding  himself 
sufficiently  kicked  and  cuffed  in  the  rough-and- 
tumble,  will  discover  how  facilely  easy  it  is  to  de 
scend  to  the  level  of  his  antagonists,  and  from  this 
discovery  to  the  awakening  of  the  remorseless  pas 
sion  for  success  at  any  price  is  but  a  step,  long  or 
short  according  to  the  exigencies  of  the  struggle. 

Checked  in  his  luggage,  if  not  precisely  pinned 
openly  upon  his  sleeve,  Blount  had  brought  with 
him  from  the  scholastic  banks  of  the  Charles  a 
choice  assortment  of  ideals,  which  are  things  pre 
cious  only  as  they  can  be  preserved  inviolate.  But 
for  weeks,  endless  weeks  as  they  seemed  to  him  in  the 
retrospect,  he  had  been  rubbing  shoulders  with  a 
crude  world  which  appeared  to  care  little  for  ideals 
and  less  for  the  man  who  upheld  them.  Inevitably, 

293 


294    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

as  he  had  admitted  to  Gantry,  the  change  was 
wrought,  or  working;  the  exclamation  springing  to 
his  lips  when  he  recognized  Gryson  evinced  it,  and 
when  he  beckoned  the  shifty  intruder  to  the  chair 
at  the  desk  end  the  ruthless  Zeitgeist  had  taken  full 
possession  of  him,  and  the  thought  uppermost  had 
grown  suddenly  indifferent  to  the  means  if  by  their 
employment  the  end  might  be  gained. 

"Come  over  here  and  sit  down,"  he  commanded; 
then,  seeing  that  Gryson  hesitated  and  flung  a  glance 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  door:  "What  are  you  afraid 
of?" 

"They've  got  my  number,"  said  the  ward-heeler, 
in  a  convict  whisper  which  was  little  more  than  a 
facial  contortion.  "There's  a  couple  oj  bulls  waitin' 
f'r  me  down  on  the  sidewalk." 

Blount  crossed  the  room,  shut  the  door  and  locked 
it.  Then  he  went  back  to  the  self-confessed  fugi 
tive. 

"You're  safe  for  the  time  being,"  he  told  the  man. 
"Now  talk  fast  and  talk  straight.  What  do  you 
want  this  time?" 

Gryson  hammered  the  arm  of  his  chair  with  his 
fist  and  babbled  profanity.  When  he  became  co 
herent  he  told  his  story,  or  rather  Blount  got  it  out 
of  him  piecemeal,  of  how  he  had  been  employed  by 
the  "organization"  to  falsify  the  registration  lists 
in  certain  districts;  of  how,  when  the  work  was 
done,  he  had  been  denied  the  price  and  driven  out 
with  cursings.  In  the  accusation,  which  was  shot 
through  with  tremulous  imprecations,  the  "organi- 


THE  ICONOCLAST  295 

zation"  and  the  railroad  company  were  implicated 
as  if  they  were  one.  In  one  breath  the  fugitive 
charged  the  "double-crossing"  to  Kittredge,  and  in 
the  next  he  accused  the  "big  boss"  himself,  of  hav 
ing  passed  the  sentence  of  deportation. 

"You  say  you  were  driven  out?  How  could  they 
drive  you  if  you  didn't  want  to  go?"  queried  the 
cross-examiner. 

"That's  on  me:  it  was  a  job  I  pulled  off  two  years 
ago  in  another  place — up  north  of  this — and  the 
night-watchman  got  in  the  way  when  I  was  leavin'. 
They  jerked  that  on  me  and  showed  me  th'  rope. 
They  had  me  by  th'  neck,  with  th'  word  passed  to 
Chief  Robertson.  I'm  back  here  now  wit'  my  life 
in  my  hand,  but  I'd  chance  it  twice  over  to  get  square 
wit'  them  welshers  that  have  bawled  me  out!" 

"Why  have  you  come  to  me?"  asked  Blount 
briefly. 

"Gawd  knows;  I  took  a  chance  again.  I've 
heard  your  speeches,  and  says  I,  '  There's  your  wan 
chance,  cully,'  and  I'm  here  to  grab  f'r  it.  If  you've 
been  meanin'  the  half  of  what  you've  been  sayin', 
Mr.  Blount — "  There  was  more  of  it,  half  pleadings 
and  half  mere  rageful  babblings  of  a  vengeful  soul 
hampered  by  the  tongue  of  inadequacy. 

Blount  left  his  chair  and  began  to  pace  the  floor, 
with  Gryson  watching  him  furtively.  At  any  time 
earlier  in  the  struggle  the  thought  of  using  this 
wretched  time-server  as  a  means  to  any  end,  how 
ever  desirable  and  just,  would  have  been  nauseating. 
True,  if  there  could  be  any  such  thing  as  honor 


296    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

among  thieves,  the  man  had  earned  the  price  of  his 
crooked  work  among  the  registration  clerks;  but  for 
another  man  to  profit  by  the  broken  bargain,  and 
by  the  confessed  criminal's  rage  and  lust  for  ven 
geance,  was  a  thing  to  make  even  a  hard-pressed 
loser  in  an  unequal  battle  hesitate. 

The  hesitation  was  only  momentary.  With  a 
gesture  which  was  more  expressive  than  many  words, 
Blount  turned  short  upon  the  furtive  watcher  in  the 
chair  at  the  desk  end. 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  he  demanded. 

"You're  on  before  I  could  stall  it  f'r  you.  You've 
been  swearin'  you'd  back  th'  square  deal  to  th'  limit; 
it  ain't  square;  it's  crooked  as  hell.  Grab  f'r  this 
knife  I'm  handin'  you  and  cut  the  heart  out  o'  these 
welshin'  bosses  that  are  givin'  you  th'  double-cross 
the  same  as  they're  givin'  it  to  me.  You're  the 
on'y  man  that  can  do  it;  the  on'y  man  on  Gawd's 
green  earth  they're  afraid  of.  I  know  it  damn'  well. 
That's  why  they  handed  my  number  to  th'  chief 
and  passed  th'  word  to  have  me  pinched.  They  was 
afraid  I'd  come  here  and  squeal  to  you!" 

Blount  stopped  him  with  an  impatient  gesture. 
"Let  that  part  of  it  rest  and  get  down  to  business. 
What  you  have  been  telling  me  may  be  true,  but  I 
can't  do  anything  on  your  bare  word — the  word  of  a 
man  who  is  dodging  the  police.  You've  got  to  bring 
me  proofs  in  black  and  white;  lists  of  the  faked 
names,  and  a  straight-out  give-away  of  how  they 
are  to  be  used;  names  and  dates,  and  a  written  story 
of  your  bargainings  with  the  men  higher  up.  This 


THE  ICONOCLAST  297 

is  Thursday;  to  be  of  any  use,  these  documents 
would  have  to  be  in  my  hands  by  Saturday  noon, 
at  the  latest.  You  know  best  whether  the  thing 
can  be  done  in  time — or  done  at  all.  What  do  you 
say?" 

For  a  little  time  Gryson  said  nothing.  When  he 
spoke  it  was  evident  that  the  lust  for  vengeance  and 
a  guilty  conscience  were  fighting  an  even-handed 
battle. 

"I  could  get  the  affidavits — maybe,"  he  said. 
"There's  a  dozen  'r  more  of  the  cullies  down-along 
got  their  notice  to  fade  away  when  I  got  mine,  and 
they'd  jump  at  th'  chance  to  get  back  at  the  bosses. 
But  fr  Gawd's  sake,  look  at  what  it  means  to  me! 
Anny  minute  I'm  on  the  job  I'd  be  lookin'  to  see 
some  bull  with  a  star  on  'im  holdin'  a  gun  on  me; 
and  after  that,  it's  this  fr  mine" — with  a  jerk  of 
the  head  and  a  pantomimic  gesture  simulating  the 
hangman's  knot  under  his  ear. 

"That  is  your  risk,"  said  Blount  coldly,  making 
this  small  concession  to  the  expiring  sense  of  up 
rightness.  "You  know  how  badly  you  want  to  'get 
square,'  as  you  put  it,  and  I  am  interested  only  in 
the  results.  If  you  get  caught,  I  sha'n't  turn  my 
hand  over  to  help  you — you  can  take  that  straight. 
But  if  you  show  up  here  with  the  proofs,  proofs  that 
I  can  use,  any  time  before  Saturday  night,  I'll 
undertake  to  see  that  you  get  safely  out  of  the 
State." 

It  was  in  the  little  pause  which  followed  that 
some  one  in  the  corridor  rapped  smartly  on  the  locked 


298    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

door.  At  the  sound,  Gryson  collapsed  and  his  face 
became  an  ashen  mask  of  fear.  Blount,  the  law- 
abiding,  might  have  hesitated,  but  this  newer  Blount 
had  slain  his  scruples.  Snatching  Gryson  out  of  his 
chair,  he  thrust  him  silently  through  the  half-open 
door  of  the  work-room,  and  a  moment  later  he  was 
answering  the  rap  at  the  corridor  entrance,  opening 
the  door  and  calmly  facing  the  two  policemen  on  the 
threshold. 

"  Well?  "he  said  brusquely. 

One  of  the  men  touched  his  helmet. 

"We're  looking  for  a  felly  that  ducked  in  below 
a  couple  of  hours  ago,  Mr.  Blount.  He's  in  the 
building,  somewheres,  and  your  office  being  lighted, 
we  thought  maybe  you'd " 

Blount  threw  the  door  wide. 

"You  can  see  for  yourselves,"  he  said.  "Would 
you  like  to  come  in  and  look  around?" 

"Sure  not;  your  word's  as  good  as  the  search, 
Mr.  Blount.  'Twas  only  on  the  chance  that  he 
might  have  faked  an  excuse  and  ducked  in  on  you 
to  be  out  of  reach." 

Blount  left  the  door  open  and  went  to  get  his 
coat  and  hat. 

"Who  is  the  man?"  he  asked,  while  the  officers 
lingered. 

"A  felly  named  Gryson.  He's  been  working  in 
the  railroad  shops  what  times  he  wasn't  pullin'  off 
something  crooked  in  the  p'litical  line." 

"What  is  he  wanted  for?"  Blount  was  closing  his 
desk  and  preparing  to  leave  the  office. 


THE  ICONOCLAST  299 

"  Croaking  a  bank  watchman  up  in  Montana  afther 
he'd  souped  the  vault  door  for  a  kick-shot." 

"In  that  case,  perhaps  I'm  lucky  that  he  didn't 
drop  in  and  croak  me,"  laughed  Blount,  turning  off 
the  lights  and  joining  the  two  men  in  the  corridor. 
And  then:  "There  is  a  back  stair  to  the  engine- 
room  in  the  basement  in  the  other  wing  of  the  build 
ing:  have  you  been  watching  that?" 

The  bigger  of  the  two  policemen  prodded  the  other 
in  the  ribs  with  his  night-stick.  "That's  on  us, 
Jakey.  He'll  have  been  gone  hours  ago.  Let's  be 
drilling.  'Tis  a  fine  mind  ye  have,  Mr.  Blount,  to 
be  thinking  of  thim  back  stairs  right  off  the  bat." 
And  the  pair  went  down  in  the  elevator  with  Blount, 
chuckling  to  themselves  at  their  own  discomfiture. 

Having  set  his  hand  to  the  plough,  Blount  did  noth 
ing  carelessly.  Sauntering  slowly,  and  even  pausing 
to  light  a  cigar,  he  trailed  the  two  policemen  until 
they  were  safely  in  another  street.  Then  he  turned 
back  to  the  great  office  building  and  once  more  had 
himself  lifted  to  the  upper  floor.  In  the  office  cor 
ridor  he  waited  until  the  car  had  dropped  out  of 
sight;  waited  still  longer  to  give  the  drowsy  night- 
boy  time  to  settle  himself  on  his  stool  and  go  to 
sleep.  Then  he  went  swiftly  to  the  door  of  the  pri 
vate  room  and  unlocked  it. 

Gryson  was  ready,  and  even  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  corridor  Blount  could  see  that  he  was  white- 
faced  and  trembling.  In  the  silent  faring  to  the 
stair  which  wound  down  in  a  spiral  around  the 
freight  elevator  Blount  gripped  the  arm  of  trembling. 


300    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"YouVe  got  to  get  your  nerve,"  he  gritted  sav 
agely,  "or  you'll  be  nipped  before  you've  gone  a 
block!"  And  then:  "Here's  the  stair:  follow  it 
down  until  you  get  to  the  basement.  There's  a  coal 
entrance  from  the  alley,  and  the  engineer  will  be 
with  his  boilers  in  the  other  wing — and  probably 
asleep.  You've  got  it  straight,  have  you?  You're 
to  bring  the  papers  to  my  office  on  or  before  Satur 
day  night.  I'll  be  looking  out  for  you,  and  if  you 
bring  me  the  evidence,  you'll  be  taken  care  of. 
That's  all.  Down  with  you,  now,  and  go  quietly. 
If  you're  caught,  I  drop  you  like  a  hot  nail;  remem 
ber  that." 

Still  puffing  at  the  cigar  which  glowed  redly  in  the 
darkness  of  the  wing  corridor,  Blount  waited  until 
his  man  had  been  given  time  to  reach  the  basement. 
Then  he  walked  slowly  back  to  the  main  corridor 
and  descended  by  the  public  stair  without  awakening 
the  elevator  boy,  who  was  sleeping  soundly  in  his 
car  on  the  ground  level. 

On  the  short  walk  to  the  hotel  the  full  significance 
of  the  thing  he  had  done  had  its  innings.  Cynical 
criticism  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  there  is 
now  and  then  an  honest  lawyer  who  regards  his  oath 
of  admission  to  the  bar — the  oath  which  binds  him 
to  uphold  the  cause  of  justice  and  fair  dealing — as 
something  more  than  a  mere  form  of  words.  Beyond 
all  question,  an  honest  man  who  has  sworn  to  up 
hold  the  law  may  neither  connive  at  crime  nor  shield 
a  criminal.  Blount  tried  the  shift  of  every  man 
who  has  ever  stepped  aside  out  of  the  plain  path 


THE  ICONOCLAST  301 

of  rectitude;  he  told  himself  morosely  that  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  Gryson's  past;  that  he  had  taken 
no  retainer  from  the  Montana  authorities;  that  the 
criminal  was  merely  a  cog  in  a  wheel  which  was 
grinding  toward  a  righteous  end,  and  as  such  should 
be  permitted  to  serve  his  turn. 

The  well-worn  argument  is  always  specious  to  the 
beginner,  and  Blount  thought  he  had  sufficiently 
justified  himself  by  the  time  he  was  pushing  through 
the  revolving  doors  into  the  Inter-Mountain  lobby. 
But  when  he  saw  his  father  quietly  smoking  his  bed 
time  cigar  in  one  of  the  big  leather-covered  lounging- 
chairs,  he  realized  that  the  first  step  had  been  taken 
in  an  exceedingly  thorny  path;  that  whatever  else 
might  be  the  outcome  of  the  bargain  with  Thomas 
Gryson,  a  son  was  coldly  plotting  to  bring  disgrace 
and  humiliation  upon  a  father. 

For  this  reason,  and  because,  when  all  is  said, 
blood  is  much  thicker  than  water,  Blount  made  as 
if  he  did  not  see  the  beckoning  hand-wave  from  the 
depths  of  the  big  chair  in  the  smokers'  alcove;  ig 
nored  it,  and  with  set  lips  and  burning  eyes  made 
for  the  nearest  elevator  to  take  refuge  in  his  room. 


XXIII 

A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT 

WITH  the  critical  election,  a  struggle  which  was  to 
decide  for  another  two-year  period  whether  or  not 
the  people  of  the  Sage-Brush  State  were  to  be  the 
masters  or  the  servants  of  chartered  monopoly,  only 
four  days  distant,  the  capital  city  took  on  the  as 
pect  of  a  stirring  camp — two  rival  camps,  in  fact, 
since  the  State  headquarters  of  the  two  chief  par 
ties  were  in  the  Inter-Mountain  Hotel — and  each 
incoming  train  brought  fresh  relays  of  henchmen 
and  district  spellbinders  to  swell  the  sidewalk  throngs 
and  to  crowd  the  lobbies. 

On  the  Friday  morning  Blount  awoke  with  the 
feeling  that  he  had  definitely  cut  himself  off  from 
all  the  commonplace  activities  of  the  campaign. 
There  were  two  days  of  suspense  to  be  outworn, 
and  if  he  could  have  compassed  it  he  would  have 
been  glad  to  efface  himself  completely.  Since  that 
was  impossible,  and  since  it  seemed  equally  impos 
sible  that  he  should  go  on  keeping  up  the  farce  of 
the  modus  vivendi  after  he  had  taken  the  step  which 
would  presently  blazon  his  name  to  the  world  as 
that  of  his  father's  accuser,  he  bought  the  morning 

302 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  303 

papers  hurriedly  at  the  hotel  news-stand  and  went 
down  the  avenue  to  get  his  breakfast  at  the  railroad 
restaurant,  where  he  would  be  measurably  sure  of 
isolation. 

After  giving  his  order  he  ran  hastily  through  the 
local  news  in  the  papers.  There  was  no  mention  of 
the  arrest  of  one  Thomas  Gryson  in  any  of  the  police 
notes,  and  he  breathed  freer.  But  in  The  Plains 
man  there  was  an  editorial  which  was  vaguely  dis 
turbing.  Blenkinsop,  who  wrote  his  own  leaders, 
hinted  pointedly  at  coming  disclosures  which  would 
change  the  political  map  of  the  State  for  all  time. 
Blount,  trying  to  determine  how  much  or  how  little 
the  editorial  was  based  upon  his  talk  with  the  editor 
on  the  Wednesday  night,  found  his  omelet  taste 
less.  Ready  enough,  as  he  was  persuaded,  to  fire 
the  disrupting  mine  with  his  own  hand,  he  was  not 
ready  to  surrender  the  match  to  any  one  else.  Mani 
festly  he  must  see  Blenkinsop  and  caution  him. 

Breakfast  over,  he  walked,  by  the  longest  way 
around,  to  his  office  in  the  Temple  Court,  hoping  to 
find  work  which  would  help  him  through  the  fore 
noon.  It  was  an  idle  hope.  From  a  State-wide 
shower  of  political  correspondence  the  daily  mail 
had  dropped  suddenly  to  an  inconsequential  drizzle, 
and  there  were  no  callers.  Here,  again,  he  saw,  or 
thought  he  saw,  the  all-powerful  hand  of  the  ma 
chine.  He  had  been  used  for  a  purpose,  the  pur 
pose  of  hoodwinking  and  deceiving  the  voters. 
That  purpose  having  been  served,  he  was  to  be 
dropped — was  already  dropped,  as  it  seemed.  By 


304    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

noon  the  sheer  time-killing  effort  became  blankly 
unbearable,  and  in  desperation  he  broke  with  an 
other  of  the  ideals — the  one  labelled  sincerity — and 
going  boldly  to  the  Inter-Mountain  he  waited  in 
the  lobby  for  the  family  party  of  three  to  come 
down  to  the  one-o'clock  luncheon  in  the  public 
cafe. 

Joining  the  party  when  it  came  down,  he  found  it 
difficult  only  in  the  inner  sanctuaries  to  maintain 
the  status  quo  ante  Gryson.  There  was  no  shadow 
of  suspicion  or  coolness  in  his  father's  kindly  smile 
and  genial  greeting,  and  Mrs.  Honoria  rallied  him 
playfully  upon  the  narrow  margin  by  which  he  had 
held  his  own  and  Patricia's  places  at  the  Gordon 
dinner-table  the  night  before.  Only  in  Patricia's 
eyes  he  read  a  curious  questioning,  a  hint  that 
they  were  finding  something  in  his  eyes  which  was 
new  and  not  wholly  understandable.  He  knew  well 
enough  what  it  was  that  she  saw;  and  though  she 
was  sitting  opposite  him  at  the  table  for  four,  he 
looked  at  her  as  seldom  as  possible,  devoting  him 
self,  for  once  in  a  way,  resolutely  to  his  father's  wife. 

After  luncheon  he  again  fell  back  upon  the  dogged 
boldness.  Unable  to  contemplate  a  second  plunge 
into  the  solitude  of  the  Temple  Court  offices,  he 
asked  and  was  accorded  permission  to  take  Patricia 
for  a  country  drive  in  the  little  car.  When  the  city 
was  left  behind,  and  the  small  machine  was  purring 
steadily  northwestward  over  a  road  which  led  to 
nowhere  in  particular,  Blount  put  his  finger  accu 
rately  upon  the  thing  which  had  been  building  little 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  305 

barriers  of  silence  between  them  all  the  way  out 
from  town. 

"You  knew  me  well  enough  yesterday  to  be  rea 
sonably  certain  of  what  I  would  do  in  given  circum 
stances,  didn't  you,  Patricia?"  he  began  abruptly. 
" To-day  you  are  not  so  sure  about  it.  Why?" 

She  laughed  lightly,  but  there  was  a  serious  under- 
note  in  her  voice  when  she  said:  "There  are  mo 
ments  when  you  make  me  wonder  if  you  haven't 
been  dabbling  in  necromancy,  Evan.  I  was  at  that 
very  instant  telling  myself  that  it  wasn't  so." 

"But  you  know  it  is  so,"  he  persisted.  "Why  am 
I  different?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Yet  you  recognize  the  fact?" 

"Is  it  a  fact?"  she  queried. 

"Yes." 

"In  what  way  are  you  different?" 

"I  am  not  altogether  certain  that  I  know,  myself. 
But  I  do  know  this:  between  yesterday  and  to-day 
there  is  a  gulf  so  wide  that  it  seems  measureless. 
The  scientists  claim  there  are  no  cataclysms;  no 
sudden  and  sweeping  changes  taking  place  either  in 
the  physical  or  the  metaphysical  field.  If  that  be 
true,  the  changes  must  go  on  subconsciously  for  a 
long  time  before  they  are  recognized.  There  is  no 
other  way  of  accounting  for  the  gulfs." 

"You  are  talking  miles  over  my  head,"  she  pro 
tested;  and,  though  the  assertion  was  not  strictly 
true,  it  served  its  purpose. 

"I  can  make  it  a  little  plainer,"  he  went  on,  slow- 


3o6    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

ing  the  motor  until  the  small  car  was  merely  am 
bling.  "You  remember  that  night  at  Wartrace 
Hall,  and  what  you  told  me?  I  went  out  from  that 
talk  resolved  to  do  what  you  had  shown  me  I  ought 
to  do,  stubbornly  refusing  to  consider  the  possibility 
of  failure.  None  the  less,  I  have  failed." 

"Oh,  no!"  she  exclaimed;    "not  that!" 

"Yes,  just  that.  But  the  failure  is  not  the  worst 
thing  that  has  befallen  me.  I  have  lost  or  gained 
something  that  pushes  the  yesterdays  into  a  past 
which  can  never  be  recovered.  Let  me  tell  you, 
girl:  I  have  been  fighting  in  the  open,  against  treach 
ery  and  deceit  fighting  always  under  cover.  I  have 
been  righting  bare-handed  where  others  were  armed. 
Day  by  day  I  have  been  finding  out  the  baseness 
and  the  trickery;  how  my  own  side  has  used  me  as 
a  screen  behind  which  the  old  dishonorable  expedi 
ents  could  be  safely  planned  and  carried  out.  I  never 
knew  until  within  the  past  two  days  what  all  this 
chicanery  and  double-dealing  might  be  doing  to  me, 
but  now  I  do  know." 

"Will  it  bear  telling?"  she  asked  quietly. 

"I  think  not — to  you,"  he  returned,  matching  her 
low  tone.  "Let  it  be  enough  to  say  that  I  am  no 
longer  the  man  I  was  when  I  came  out  here.  Patri 
cia,  I'm  not  fighting  bare-handed  any  more;  I'm 
smashing  in  with  any  weapon  I  can  get  hold  of. 
There  will  be  no  such  reform  as  the  one  you  urged 
me  to  champion — as  the  era  of  fair-dealing  and  sin 
cerity  which  I  have  been  trying  honestly  and  ear 
nestly  to  inaugurate.  Nevertheless,  if  my  hand 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  307 

doesn't  tremble  too  much  at  the  critical  moment, 
there  will  be,  on  the  morning  of  next  Tuesday,  such 
a  revolution  as  this  commonwealth  has  never  seen. 
Though  they  have  robbed  me  and  made  a  puppet 
of  me,  I  can  still  bring  it  about." 

He  had  gone  farther  than  he  meant  to,  and  he 
thought  she  would  protest.  He  knew  that  her  con 
victions  of  what  should  be  and  what  should  not  be 
were  clear-cut  and  definite.  But  a  man,  even  though 
he  be  a  lover,  may  know  a  woman's  mind  without 
knowing  very  much  about  the  woman  herself. 
There  was  no  protest  forthcoming.  Quite  the  con 
trary,  she  answered  him  with  a  little  shudder  that 
was  almost  a  caress,  saying:  "I  think  you  have 
grown — bigger  and  stronger  than  I  ever  thought 
you  could  grow,  Evan;  and  I'm  sure  your  hand 
won't  tremble.  Is  that  what  you  want  me  to  say?" 

Since  there  is  no  more  contradictory  being  in  a 
sentient  world  than  a  man  in  love,  Blount  was  not 
quite  sure  that  it  was  what  he  wanted  her  to  say. 
By  times,  to  any  lover  worthy  of  the  name,  the 
chosen  woman  figures  as  a  goddess,  a  tutelary  divin 
ity  postulating  for  a  mere  earthly  man  all  that  is 
high  and  holy  and  inerrant;  an  impeccable  standard 
by  which  he  can  measure  his  own  baser  desires  and 
ambitions  and  be  shrived  of  them.  At  other  times 
the  straitly  human  has  its  innings,  and  the  longing 
is  for  a  comrade,  a  companion,  a  second  self  buried, 
lost,  submerged  in  the  loyalty  which  never  ques 
tions.  Having  come  slowly  to  maturity  as  a  lover, 
Blount  had  been  leaning  toward  the  divinity  defini- 


308    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

tion  of  Patricia  Anners.     But  now  the  iconoclastic 
change  was  breaking  many  images. 

"You  are  willing  to  believe  that  I  haven't  gone 
altogether  backward?"  he  queried,  after  the  little 
car  had  measured  an  additional  stretch  of  the  mesa 
road. 

"You  are  bigger  and  stronger,"  she  repeated. 

"How  do  you  know  I  am?" 

"I  can  tell;  any  woman  could  tell." 

"Is  the  acquirement  of  size  and  strength  so  great 
a  thing  that— 

"I  think  it  is — in  a  woman's  eyes,"  she  admitted 
fearlessly.  "We  are  all  more  or  less  primitive  and 
— and,  well,  'Stone-Agey,'  let  us  say,  in  the  last 
analysis;  at  least,  women  are."  And  then:  "You 
don't  know  women  very  well,  Evan." 

"Don't  I?" 

"No,  you  don't.  You  judge  us  by  standards 
which  have  no  existence  outside  of  your  own  purely 
masculine  deductions.  For  example :  I  suppose  you 
wouldn't  admit  for  a  moment  that  a  good  woman 
might  properly  do  things  which  would  be  entirely 
discreditable  in  a  man?" 

He  shook  his  head  slowly  and  said:  "Yesterday, 
or  the  day  before,  I  might  have  said  'no,'  with  all 
the  cocksureness  of  a  boy  of  twenty.  To-day  I  can 
only  say:  '  Who  am  I,  that  I  should  judge  any  man 
— or  any  woman?'  Then  suddenly:  "You  are 
making  excuses  for  my  father's  wife.  You  needn't, 
you  know.  She  has  fought  me  from  the  beginning, 
and  I  know  it.  Sometimes  I  think  that  she  is  solely 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  309 

responsible  for  my  failure  to  accomplish  the  thing 
I  had  set  my  heart  upon.  Let  it  go;  I  don't  bear 
malice.  Just  now  I'm  more  interested  in  what  you 
were  saying  about  the  sex  differences  and  the  wom 
an's  point  of  view.  Have  you  been  calling  me  a 
weak  man,  Patricia?" 

"No;  only — a  little — conventional,"  she  returned 
half  reluctantly. 

"But  you  are  the  quintessence  of  conventionality 
yourself!"  he  burst  out. 

"Am  I?  Perhaps  that  was  a  passing  phase,  too. 
Quite  probably  the  little  things  will  remain — the 
dressing  for  dinner  and  the  paying  of  party  calls 
and  all  that.  But  one  really  big  man  has  made 
many  things  seem  petty  and  trifling — things  that  I 
used  to  think  were  of  the  greatest  possible  impor 
tance." 

"My  father,  you  mean?" 

"Yes.  If  I  should  ever  marry,  Evan,  I  should 
be  deliriously  happy  if  I  could  find  a  man  who 
promised  to  grow  to  the  stature  of  your  father." 

There  was  manifestly  no  rejoinder  to  be  made  to 
this  by  David  Blount's  son,  though  it  pointed  to 
another  and  still  more  painful  involvement.  What 
would  Patricia  say  when  the  debacle  came?  Would 
she  lose  faith  in  his  father,  and  in  all  masculinity, 
in  the  crash?  Or  would  she  borrow  yet  again  from 
the  primitive  woman  she  had  been  half-acknowledg 
ing  and  still  be  loyal?  In  either  case  Blount  saw 
his  own  finish,  and  he  was  rather  relieved  when  she 
left  the  sex  argument  indeterminate  and  began  to 


310    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

talk  of  other  things:  of  her  father's  decision  to  go 
home  at  the  end  of  the  following  week,  of  the  good 
times  she  had  been  having,  and  of  the  regret  with 
which  she  would  turn  her  back  upon  the  wide  hori 
zons  and  the  freedom  of  it  all. 

"I  brought  my  shell  with  me  when  I  came,"  she 
confessed,  laughing,  "but  I  think  it  is  broken  into 
little  pieces  by  now.  You  will  know  how  small  the 
pieces  are  when  I  tell  you  that  '  Tennessee  Jim,' 
your  father's  horse  wrangler,  calls  me  '  Miz'  Pat, '  and 
it  always  makes  me  want  to  shake  hands  with  him." 

Blount  made  the  afternoon  last  as  he  could,  send 
ing  the  little  car  over  many  miles  of  the  mesa  roads 
and  encouraging  the  small  confidences  which  were 
enabling  him  to  postpone  his  own  evil  hour.  When 
the  sun  was  dipping  toward  the  Carnadine  Hills 
they  returned  over  a  trail  which  came  into  the  main 
Quaretaro  road  at  a  point  where  the  northern  high 
way  begins  its  descent  to  the  lower  mesa  level. 
Half-way  down  the  descending  gulch  they  came  to 
the  mouth  of  a  small  lateral  canyon  breaking  into 
the  larger  gorge  from  the  eastward;  a  canyon  dry 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  but  in  the  rainy 
season  affording  an  outlet  for  the  flood-waters  of 
the  Little  Shonoho. 

"That  is  a  road  I  have  always  wanted  to  explore/' 
said  Patricia,  pointing  to  the  fine  driveway  leading 
up  the  small  canyon.  "That  is  one  of  my  weak 
nesses  when  I  am  driving;  I  am  never  able  to  pass 
a  branch  road  without  wanting  to  turn  aside  and 
explore  it." 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  311 

"Then  we'll  explore  this  one,  right  now,"  said 
Blount,  cutting  the  car  to  the  left.  He  was  more 
than  willing  to  delay,  even  by  littles,  the  moment 
when  he  should  be  obliged  to  resume  the  sorry  busi 
ness  of  waiting  and  dissembling. 

Miss  Anners  glanced  at  the  tiny  watch  pinned 
upon  her  shoulder. 

"Shall  we  have  time?    It's  getting  late." 

"Plenty  of  time  for  all  we  shall  be  able  to  do  or 
see  up  here,"  Blount  returned.  "The  road  ends  at 
the  canyon  head,  a  mile  above.  There  is  a  very 
small  and  very  exclusive  summer-resort  hotel,  called 
the  Shonoho  Inn,  on  the  upper  level.  It  has  a  six- 
weeks'  season — like  the  Florida  resorts — they  tell  me, 
and  it  is  closed  now." 

It  was  within  the  next  five  hundred  yards  that 
the  prediction  that  there  would  be  nothing  to  see 
anticipated  its  fulfilment.  At  a  sudden  turn  in  the 
narrow  defile  they  came  to  a  brush-built  barricade 
posted  with  a  sign: 

ROAD  WASHED  OUT  ABOVE 
NO  PASSING  FOR  VEHICLES! 

"That  settles  it,"  said  Blount  shortly,  and  he 
turned  the  car  and  let  it  roll  back  down  the  grade 
to  the  main  gulch. 

When  they  were  once  more  speeding  toward  town 
Blount  stole  a  glance  at  his  companion,  wondering 
if  it  were  the  small  disappointment  which  made  her 
silent. 

"Are  you  tired?"  he  asked  quickly. 


312    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Oh,  no,"  she  rejoined,  brightening  again.  "I 
have  enjoyed  every  minute  of  it.  I  was  just  think 
ing  of  what  I  said  a  little  while  ago;  of  how  it  is 
going  to  break  my  heart  to  leave  it  all." 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  to  tell  her  that  she 
needn't  leave  it.  But  he  remembered  and  caught 
himself  sharply.  When  the  dreadful  Tuesday  should 
have  come  and  gone,  she  might  be  only  too  willing 
to  go  away;  and,  in  any  event,  he  would  have  to 
go.  There  would  be  no  place  in  his  own  and  his 
father's  State  for  him  after  Gryson  returned,  and 
the  match  had  been  touched  to  the  hidden  mine  of 
high  explosives.  This  was  what  was  in  his  mind 
when  he  said  rather  tamely:  "I  suppose  you  will 
have  to  go.  There  isn't  any  chance  for  social-set 
tlement  work  out  here  yet." 

"No,"  she  responded  half -absently;  and  there 
upon  he  gave  the  little  car  still  more  spark  and 
throttle  and  sent  it  flying  over  the  final  stretch  of 
the  fine  road  to  the  city. 

The  electric  lights  were  showing  like  faint  yellow 
stars  against  the  sunset  sky  when  Blount  skilfully 
placed  the  small  car  at  the  Inter-Mountain  curb 
and  lifted  his  companion  to  the  sidewalk 

"Are  you  going  anywhere  to-night?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  was  the  reply.  "There  is  a 
'crush'  on  at  the  Weatherfords',  but  I  don't  know 
whether  Mrs.  Blount  has  accepted  for  us  or  not." 

"Don't  go,"  he  pleaded  quickly.  "Back  out  of 
it  some  way,  and  give  me  just  this  one  evening  to 
myself.  Won't  you  do  that,  Patricia?" 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  313 

"I'll  try/'  she  agreed.  "But  if  Mrs.  Blount  has 
accepted " 

"Confound  Mrs.  Blount!"  he  growled.  And  then 
the  newly  aroused  underman  in  him  added:  "You 
tell  her  that  I  want  you  to  give  me  the  evening,  and 
let  that  settle  it." 

As  it  turned  out  a  little  later,  Miss  Anners  found 
it  unnecessary  to  be  rude  to  her  hostess.  For  some 
reason  best  known  to  herself,  Mrs.  Honoria  had  de 
clined  the  invitation — engraved  in  the  correctest 
shaded  Old  English  and  made  to  include  the  senator 
and  Miss  Anners — and  was  planning  a  free  evening 
for  herself  and  her  guest. 

After  the  cafe  dinner — a  dinner  at  which  Evan 
Blount,  once  more  calling  himself  all  the  hard  names 
in  the  hypocrite's  vocabulary,  made  the  fourth — 
Mrs.  Honoria  proposed  an  adjournment  to  the  hotel 
parlors,  which  were  in  the  mezzanine  lounge.  Later, 
she  found  herself  alone  on  the  divan  which  had  been 
drawn  up  to  command  a  view  of  the  spirited  scene 
in  the  lobby  below.  The  senator  had  gone  down 
to  mingle  with  the  politicians,  and  she  could  see 
him — big,  masterful,  and  smiling — moving  about 
from  group  to  group.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the 
mezzanine  gallery,  Evan  and  Patricia  were  "doing 
time,"  as  the  little  lady  musingly  phrased  it:  walk 
ing  up  and  down  and  talking  quietly;  a  handsome 
couple,  as  the  approving  glances  of  more  than  one 
passing  guest  testified. 

To  Mrs.  Honoria,  thus  isolated,  came  at  the  ap 
pointed  time  the  sober-eyed  young  traffic  manager 


314    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

for  the  railroad  company.  Gantry  had  been  under 
orders  from  the  little  lady  for  the  better  part  of 
the  afternoon,  but  the  business  of  the  day  had 
given  him  no  chance  to  report  earlier. 

"You  got  my  note?"  he  asked,  taking  the  place 
she  made  for  him  on  the  tete-a-tete  divan. 

aYes;  a  little  while  before  dinner.  It  came  just 
in  time  to  let  me  send  frightfully  late  i regrets'  to 
Mrs.  Weatherford." 

"I  couldn't  come  sooner.  I've  had  the  Hathaway 
crowd  on  my  hands  all  afternoon.  There  is  some 
thing  in  the  wind,  and  those  fellows  are  scared  stiff. 
They  say  that  Evan's  speech-making  has  stirred  up 
the  working  men  and  the  rank  and  file  like  a  declara 
tion  of  war  with  Mexico,  and  nobody  can  tell  what 
is  going  to  happen  next  Tuesday." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"No,  not  quite  all.  There  is  a  mild  panic  on  in 
at  least  three  of  the  city  wards  over  the  disappear 
ance  of  a  fellow  named  Gryson,  a  sort  of — er — wire 
puller  and  all-around  general-utility  man.  Some 
say  he  has  been  doing  crooked  work  and  had  to  dis 
appear;  others  say  that  he  has  taken  his  pay  for 
whatever  job  he  was  doing  and  has  skipped  out, 
leaving  his  journeymen  strikers  to  hold  the  bag." 

"Gryson,"  said  the  little  lady,  her  eyes  narrow 
ing;  "Gryson — the  name  is  curiously  familiar.  He 
is  what  you  call  a  ward- worker,  isn't  he?" 

Gantry  nodded.  "Something  of  the  sort,  yes. 
Evan  calls  him  one  of  the  '  pie-eaters,'  and  away 
along  early  in  the  game  they  had  a  set-to  in  Evan's 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  315 

office  and  Evan  fired  him;  told  him  if  he  ever  came 
back  he'd  throw  him  out/' 

Again  Mrs.  Honoria's  fine  eyes  became  reflective. 

"Richard,"  she  said  softly,  "I'd  give  anything 
in  the  world  if  I  could  know  that  Evan  still  feels 
that  way  about  Thomas  Gryson." 

"Then  you  know  the  plug-ugly,  do  you?"  said 
Gantry. 

"I  know  of  him.  He  is  a  criminal  and  a  danger 
ous  man." 

"Well,  he  is  out  of  it,  I  guess;  he  must  be,  if  his 
own  running-mates  can't  find  him." 

"Isn't  Mr.  Kittredge  trying  to  find  him,  too?" 

"Yes.  And  I  think  Kittredge  played  it  rather 
low  down  on  the  popr  beggar.  They  had  a  deal  of 
some  sort,  and  when  Gryson  put  his  price  on  the 
job " 

"  I  know,"  she  interrupted.  "  Mr.  Kittredge  ought 
to  have  paid  him  and  let  him  go." 

Gantry's  smile  was  a  tribute  to  superior  genius. 

"You've  got  me  going,"  he  said;  "you  always 
have  me  going.  With  the  election  only  three  days 
off,  I  can't  tell  yet  what  you  and  the  senator  are 
trying  to  do." 

"The  senator,  at  least,  has  never  made  any  se 
cret  of  his  object,"  she  smiled  back  at  him.  "He 
has  told  everybody  that  he  is  out  for  a  clean  sweep." 

"Exactly,"  said  Gantry;  "but  no  man  living 
knows  what  he  means  by  a  l  clean  sweep.'  I'll  bet 
there  are  a  hundred  men  down  there  in  the  lobby 
right  now  who  would  give  the  best  year  out  of  their 


3i6    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

lives  to  know.  And  they  can't  guess — they  can't 
begin  to  guess!" 

"Let  us  leave  them  to  their  guesses,  while  we  go 
back  to  the  certainties/'  she  suggested.  "Did  you 
find  out  what  I  asked  you  to?" 

"Yes;  and  I  don't  know  whether  I  ought  to  tell 
you  or  not.  I'm  still  drawing  my  salary  from  the 
railroad,  you  know." 

"And  you  are  not  sure  that  I  am  drawing  mine?" 
she  laughed.  "Don't  you  remember  when  Mr.  Mc- 
Vickar  gave  me  this?"  touching  the  little  jewel- 
incrusted  watch  on  her  shoulder. 

"Yes,  I  remember;  also  I  remember  that  this 
is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  seen  you  wearing  it." 
And  then:  "I'd  never  try  to  bribe  you  in  the  wide, 
wide  world,  Mrs.  Blount." 

"Why  not?" 

"For  two  reasons:  you  are  too  much  in  love  with 
your  husband;  and,  if  you  took  a  notion  to  fly  the 
track,  a  king's  ransom  wouldn't  be  big  enough  to 
make  you  stay  bribed." 

"I  am  flattered,  I'm  sure;  but  I'm  still  in  the 
dark  about  the  thing  you  have  come  here  to  tell 
me,"  she  reminded  him. 

"I  presume  you  may  as  well  know  it,  though  I 
can  tell  you  that  it  has  been  kept  the  darkest  kind 
of  a  secret.  Mr.  McVickar  came  west  to-day  from 
Bald  Butte  in  a  new  gasolene  unit-car  which  is  sup 
posed  to  be  making  a  trial  trip  over  the  road.  The 
car  is  supposed  to  have  a  bunch  of  the  Chicago  offi 
cials  on  board,  though  not  half  a  dozen  men  on  this 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  317 

division  know  that  the  vice-president  is  the  only 
official,  and  that  the  others  are  clerks  and  teleg 
raphers." 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  small  person  quickly. 

"That  gasolene  special  is  lost.  No  station  west 
of  Bald  Butte  has  yet  reported  it.  Strictly  between 
us  two,  it  left  the  main  line  at  the  old  disused  track 
leading  out  to  the  abandoned  Shoshone  mine  work 
ings.  There  were  autos  to  meet  it  at  the  mine,  and 
by  this  time  Mr.  McVickar  is  probably  toasting  his 
feet  before  an  open  wood-fire  in  the  Shonoho  Inn." 

Mrs.  Honoria  leaned  her  two  round  arms  on  the 
mezzanine  rail,  and  looked  long  and  earnestly  down 
upon  the  caucussing  lobby  throng.  When  she  looked 
up  it  was  to  say:  "There  are  wires?" 

"A  full  set  of  cut-ins.  You  can  trust  the  big 
boss  for  that.  He  is  in  touch  with  every  corner 
of  the  State,  just  the  same  as  he  would  be  if  he 
were  here  in  his  usual  election  headquarters  in  the 
hotel." 

The  small  plotter  became  silent  again,  and  when 
she  spoke  she  was  smiling  brightly. 

"You  are  a  good  boy,  Richard,  and  you  shall 
have  your  reward.  And  it  is  going  to  be  something 
that  will  make  you  happy,  this  time.  Run  away, 
now,  and  let  me  have  a  little  solitude.  I  want  to 
think." 

It  was  a  full  hour  after  Gantry's  disappearance 
that  the  senator  came  up-stairs,  and  Mrs.  Honoria 
beckoned  to  the  pair  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
gallery. 


3i8    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"It's  bedtime/'  she  said,  when  they  came  around 
to  her  divan.  And  then,  with  a  malicious  little 
grimace  for  Evan:  "I've  been  counting,  and  I've 
seen  Patricia  stifle  three  distinct  and  separate 
yawns  in  the  last  five  minutes.  She  has  been  up 
every  night  since  we  came  to  town,  and " 

Left  to  himself,  Blount  sat  watching  the  crowd 
for  a  time,  and  then  went  to  his  room  to  read  him 
self  to  sleep.  One  of  the  two  crucial  days  of  sus 
pense  was  outworn,  but  there  was  another  coming; 
and  after  he  had  read  for  an  hour  he  went  to  bed, 
resolutely  determined  to  get  the  rest  necessary  to 
carry  him  through  the  dreaded  Saturday.  Sleep 
came  quickly  when  he  had  turned  off  the  lights,  but 
it  was  merely  a  transition  to  a  troubled  dreamland 
in  which  Patricia,  Mrs.  Honoria,  Gryson,  and  Gan 
try  were  weirdly  confused.  In  the  thick  of  it  he 
seemed  to  see  the  ward-heeler  standing  at  his  bed 
side  and  beating  furiously  upon  a  huge  Chinese 
gong.  When  he  sprang  up  and  began  to  rub  his 
eyes,  the  room  was  lighted  by  a  red  glare,  and  the 
dream-noise  was  translated  into  the  rattling  of  wheels 
and  the  clanging  of  alarm-gongs  and  cries  of  "Fire!" 
in  the  avenue  below. 

As  a  city  dweller,  Blount  should  have  felt  the 
wall  of  the  room,  and,  finding  it  still  cool,  should 
have  turned  over  and  gone  to  sleep  again.  Instead, 
he  slipped  out  of  bed  and  went  to  the  window.  One 
glance  showed  him  that  the  fire  was  in  the  busi 
ness  district,  either  in  or  near  the  Temple  Court 
Building.  That  was  enough  to  make  him  dress  hur- 


A  CRY  IN  THE  NIGHT  319 

riedly  and  hasten  to  the  street,  where  he  found  a 
handful  of  policemen  trying  ineffectually  to  keep  a 
clear  pavement  for  the  racing  fire-trucks.  "  Watch 
ing  his  chance,  Blount  darted  out  to  make  the  cross 
ing.  He  was  half-way  to  the  opposite  curb  when  an 
unwieldy  hook-and-ladder  truck,  drawn  by  a  pair 
of  magnificent  grays,  came  lurching  and  plunging 
down  the  side  street  upon  which  the  hotel  cornered. 
In  front  of  the  horses,  and  leaping  and  barking 
at  their  heads  in  a  frenzy  of  excitement,  was  a  spotted 
coach-dog — the  truck  squad's  mascot.  Blount  was 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  farther  sidewalk,  and  was 
well  out  of  danger  when  the  long  truck  slewed  into 
the  avenue.  But  at  the  passing  instant  the  mascot 
dog,  leaping  and  whirling  like  a  four-footed  dervish, 
sprang  backward.  Blount  felt  the  catapulting  shock 
of  a  yielding  body  between  his  shoulders,  heard  a 
yell  from  the  truck-driver  on  his  high  seat,  and  went 
plunging  headlong  to  the  curb.  After  which  he  felt 
and  heard  no  more. 


XXIV 

FIELD  HEADQUARTERS 

IN  the  great  world-battles  of  yesterday,  or  the 
day  before,  the  commanding  general  rode,  with  a 
few  chosen  officers  of  his  staff,  to  some  near-by  hill 
top,  shell-swept  and  perilous,  and  with  the  help  of 
a  pair  of  field-glasses  and  a  corps  of  hard-riding 
aides  kept  in  touch  as  he  could  with  the  shifting 
fortunes  of  his  divisions  and  brigades.  It  would  be 
small  credit  to  an  up-to-date  day  of  progress  and 
invention  if  this  were  not  all  changed.  The  pres 
ent-moment  commander-in-chief— warring,  industrial, 
or  political — may  sit,  thanks  to  the  Morses  and  the 
Edisons,  comfortably  in  office-coat  and  slippers,  far 
removed  from  the  battle  turmoil,  directing  his  forces 
with  the  pressure  of  a  ringer  upon  the  appropriate 
electric  button,  or  in  a  few  words  dictated  to  the 
human  ear  of  a  clicking  telegraph-instrument. 

By  all  these  adventitious  aids  Vice-President  Mc- 
Vickar  was  profiting  on  the  Saturday  morning  fol 
lowing  the  mysterious  disappearance  on  the  Friday 
of  the  gasolene  unit-car  somewhere  between  Bald 
Butte  and  the  capital.  The  small  resort  hotel  at 
the  head  of  Shonoho  Canyon  had  been  transformed 
into  a  field  headquarters.  The  hotel  manager's 

320 


FIELD  HEADQUARTERS  321 

desk,  wheeled  out  in  front  of  a  crackling  wood-fire 
in  the  ornate  little  lobby,  was  studded  with  its  row 
of  electric  call-buttons;  a  railroad  dining-car  crew 
had  taken  possession  of  the  kitchen;  and  the  spa 
cious  writing-  and  lounging-room,  sacred,  in  the  sea 
son,  to  the  guests  of  the  exclusive  hotel,  housed  a 
ranking  of  glass-topped  telegraph-tables  and  im 
promptu  desks — a  work-room  manned  by  a  dozen 
picked  young  men,  with  O'Brien,  the  vice-president's 
private  secretary,  acting  as  the  chief. 

Though  the  momentous  Tuesday  was  still  three 
days  in  the  future,  Mr.  McVickar  was  actively  at 
work  on  the  Saturday  morning,  gathering  in  the 
loose  ends  and  strengthening  the  railroad  company's 
defences.  With  his  arm-chair  drawn  up  to  the  bor 
rowed  desk  he  was  running  rapidly  through  the  tele 
grams  filtering  in  a  steady  shower  from  the  crackling 
sounders  in  the  writing-room.  When  the  situation 
had  begun  to  outline  itself  with  something  like  co 
herence,  he  pressed  a  call-button  for  O'Brien. 

"How  about  that  wire  to  Detwiler  at  Ophir — 
any  reply  yet?"  was  the  rasping  demand  shot  at 
the  secretary. 

"Nothing  yet;  no,  sir." 

"Go  after  him  again!  There's  a  screw  loose 
among  those  miners!  How  about  Hathaway? 
Did  you  phone  Twin  Buttes?" 

"Yes;  and  Grogan,  the  mill  time-keeper,  an 
swered.  He  says  Mr.  Hathaway  is  in  the  capital 
and  something  has  gone  wrong — he  doesn't  know 
what." 


322    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Keep  the  wires  hot  until  you  can  get  hold  of 
Hathaway  himself,  and  when  you  nail  him,  switch 
him  over  to  my  phone.  Any  word  from  the  irri 
gation  people  at  Natcho?" 

"Yes.  They  say  that  the  farmers  under  the  High 
Line  have  been  getting  restive  and  forming  associa 
tions.  Daniels  was  the  man  who  talked  to  me,  and 
he  says  it's  a  Gordon  movement,  though  the  ranch 
men  are  trying  to  keep  it  quiet." 

"Take  a  message  to  Daniels!'7  snapped  the  vice- 
president;  and  then,  dictating:  "'How  would  it  do 
to  let  it  be  known  quietly  that  Gordon's  election 
means  raise  in  price  of  water  to  High  Line  users?' 
Send  that,  and  sign  it  'Committee  of  Safety.'  Now 
how  about  Kittredge?  Did  you  get  him?" 

"I  did;  he's  driving  out  in  his  car,  and  he  ought 
to  be  here  in  a  few  minutes." 

As  if  to  make  O'Brien's  word  good,  the  roar  of  an 
automobile  came  from  the  driveway,  dominating 
for  the  moment  the  chattering  of  the  telegraph-in 
struments,  and  a  little  later  Kittredge  came  in,  lift 
ing  his  goggles  and  wiping  the  road  dust  from  his 
closely  clipped  black  beard. 

"That  car  of  yours  isn't  what  it  might  be,  Kitt 
redge,"  was  the  vice-president's  crusty  greeting. 
"You'd  better  get  a  faster  one.  Sit  down,  and  let's 
have  it.  How  are  things  shaping  up  in  the  city?" 

The  big  superintendent  sat  down  and  found  a 
cigar  in  an  inner  pocket  of  his  driving-coat. 

"We  are  holding  our  own,  as  far  as  anybody  can 
see,"  he  returned. 


FIELD  HEADQUARTERS  323 

"That  'as  far  as  anybody  can  see'  is  just  your 
weakness,  Kittredge,"  said  the  chief  testily.  "What 
we  want — what  we've  got  to  have  first,  last,  and  all 
the  time — is  the  fact.  Now  see  if  you  can  answer 
a  few  straight  questions.  What  is  the  senator 
doing?" 

"His  wife  has  a  young  girl  visiting  her,  and  if  the 
Honorable  Dave  is  doing  anything  more  than  to 
show  the  two  women  a  good  time,  I  can't  find  it  out." 

"There  you  go  again!  You  say  'if.'  It's  your 
business  to  know." 

Kittredge  held  his  peace.  Being  designed  by  na 
ture  for  a  heavy-weight  ring-fighter,  there  were  times 
when  he  felt  like  taking  off  his  coat  to  the  vice- 
president. 

"Well?"  prompted  McVickar,  when  Kittredge 
remained  obstinately  silent. 

"If  I  knew  what  sort  of  a  deal  you  have  made 
with  the  senator " 

"That  cuts  no  figure.  But  let  it  go.  What's 
young  Blount  doing?" 

"He's  out  of  it,  good  and  plenty.  He  started  to 
go  to  the  Sampson  Block  fire  last  night  and  was 
knocked  down  by  a  hook-and-ladder  truck.  It's 
a  cracked  skull,  and  Doc  Dillon  says  he's  safe  to 
stay  in  bed  for  a  week  or  so." 

"H'm,"  said  the  chief  reflectively.  "That  is  al 
most  what  you  might  call  opportune,  Kittredge. 
The  young  fellow  has  done  his  work  well,  but  there 
was  always  the  danger  that  he  might  overdo  it. 
In  fact,  there  was  a  time,  a  week  or  two  ago,  when 


324    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

I  thought  he  would  have  to  be  called  down  and 
given  a  lesson.  Now  then,  how  about  that  Gryson 
business?" 

"It  was  just  as  you  said:  I  had  to  take  Tom  by 
the  neck  and  get  rid  of  him." 

"He  did  his  work  aU  right?" 

"Yes,  and  came  swaggering  around  for  his  pay. 
I  sized  it  up  one  side  and  down  the  other.  He  had 
a  pretty  bad  case  of  swelled  head  and  tried  to  hold 
me  up  for  a  bonus,  hinting  around  about  what  he 
could  do  if  he  wanted  to  throw  the  gaff  into  us.  As 
I  say,  I  sized  it  up,  and  took  snap  judgment  on  him 
— pulled  the  Montana  racket  and  gave  him  twenty- 
four  hours'  start  of  the  police." 

The  vice-president  frowned  and  shook  his  head. 
"You  took  a  chance — a  long  chance,  Kittredge! 
Twenty-four  hours  gave  him  all  the  time  he  needed 
to  fall  afoul  of  young  Blount." 

The  big  superintendent  grinned  amiably. 

"The  senator  helped  out  on  that,"  he  explained. 

"The  senator?    How  was  that?" 

"It's  the  first  time  he  has  shown  any  part  of  his 
hand  to  me  in  the  entire  campaign.  About  an  hour 
after  I  had  shot  Tom  Gryson  to  pieces  a  note  came 
down  from  the  Inter-Mountain,  asking  me  to  come 
up.  I  didn't  get  to  see  the  senator  himself,  but 
Mrs.  Blount  gave  me  the  dope.  As  a  result,  young 
Blount  got  a  hurry  telegram  from  you,  directing 
him  to  go  to  Lewiston  at  once  in  that  right-of-way 
matter  of  Brodhead's.  I  gave  him  my  car,  and  the 
trip  cost  him  the  better  part  of  two  whole  days." 


FIELD  HEADQUARTERS  325 

Again  the  vice-president  shook  his  head. 

"Your  methods  are  always  pretty  crude,  Kitt- 
redge,"  he  commented.  "You  took  another  long 
chance  when  you  forged  my  name  to  a  telegram 
for  as  shrewd  a  young  lawyer  as  Evan  Blount.  But 
go  on.  You  got  Blount  out  of  the  way — then  what?  " 

"Then  I  went  after  Gryson  again.  The  little 
woman's  hint  hit  the  bull's-eye  as  true  as  a  rifle  bul 
let.  Tom  meant  to  give  us  away  to  Blount.  He 
haunted  Blount's  up-town  office  the  better  part  of 
the  day;  and  finally,  in  sheer  self-defence,  I  had 
to  tip  him  off  to  the  police,  as  I  had  threatened 
to.  Another  little  mystery  bobbed  up  there.  Chief 
Robertson  winked  one  eye  at  me  and  said:  '  You're 
too  late,  Mr.  Kittredge;  your  man  has  already  been 
piped  off  and  he's  gone." 

"Who  did  it?"  snapped  McVickar. 

"I  don't  know,  and  Robertson  wouldn't  tell  me. 
But  I  got  him  to  promise  to  put  out  the  reward 
quietly.  If  Gryson  comes  back  he'll  be  nipped  be 
fore  he  can  talk." 

"With  young  Blount  laid  up,  it  won't  make  much 
difference,"  was  the  summing-up  rejoinder.  And 
then:  "I  think  that  is  all — for  this  morning.  Go 
around  to  the  telephone-exchange  when  you  get 
back  to  town  and  tell  the  manager  that  I  want  a 
special  operator — a  man,  if  he's  got  one — put  on 
this  long-distance  wire.  Have  you  sent  your  line 
men  out  to  guard  the  wires  on  the  Shoshone  mine 
track?" 

"Yes;   all  the  way  from  the  switch  to  the  hills." 


326    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"All  right;  that's  all.  Keep  your  finger  on  the 
pulse  of  things  in  town  to-day,  and  arrange  with 
your  despatcher  to  give  my  operators  here  a  clear 
wire  in  any  direction  whenever  it's  called  for.  Above 
all,  keep  me  posted,  Kittredge;  don't  let  anything 
get  by  you,  no  matter  how  trivial  it  may  seem." 

As  the  superintendent  was  climbing  into  his  car, 
the  railroad  electrician  who  was  in  charge  of  the 
men  guarding  the  telegraph-wires  came  up. 

"One  minute,  Mr.  Kittredge.  I've  put  the  box 
in,  according  to  orders— 

"What  box,  and  whose  orders?" 

"The  recording  microphone  in  Mr.  McVickar's 
office,  in  there;  and  by  his  orders,  I  guess — at  least 
they  came  from  one  of  his  men.  We're  needing  a 
couple  more  batteries,  and  I  was  just  wondering  if 
it'd  be  all  right  to  take  'em  from  that  gasolene 
unit-car.  We  could  put  'em  back  afterwards." 

"Yes;  take  'em  wherever  you  can  find  'em,"  said 
the  superintendent,  who  was  thinking  pointedly  of 
other  things  just  then;  and  the  permission  given, 
he  started  his  motor  and  drove  away. 


XXV 

BLOOD   AND   IRON 

TEN  o'clock  in  the  Saturday  forenoon  marked  the 
time  of  Superintendent  Kittredge's  flying  visit  to 
his  chief's  headquarters-on-the-field  at  the  head  of 
Shonoho  Canyon;  and  at  that  hour  Evan  Blount, 
blinking  dizzily,  and  with  his  head  bandaged  and 
throbbing  as  if  the  premier  company  of  all  the  Afri 
can  tom-tom  symphonists  were  making  free  with  it, 
was  letting  Mrs.  Honoria  beat  up  his  pillows  and 
prop  him  with  them,  so  that  the  drum-beating  clamor 
might  be  minimized  to  some  bearable  degree. 

"You  are  feeling  better  now?"  suggested  the  vol 
unteer  nurse,  going  to  adjust  the  window-curtains 
for  the  better  comfort  of  the  blinking  and  aching 
eyes. 

The  victim  of  the  hook-and-ladder  squad's  mas 
cot  answered  qualitatively. 

"I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  having  an  argument  with 
a  battering-ram  and  had  come  off  second-best.  I've 
been  out  of  my  head,  haven't  I?" 

"  A  little,  yes;  but  that  was  to  be  expected.  You 
were  pretty  badly  hurt." 

"Have  I  been  talking?" 

327 


328    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Not  very  much — nothing  intelligible."  The  lit 
tle  lady  had  drawn  her  chair  to  the  window  and  was 
busying  herself  with  the  never-finished  embroidery. 

"What  hit  me— was  it  the  truck?" 

"No;  some  of  the  people  in  the  street  said  it  was 
a  dog;  a  coach-dog  running  and  jumping  at  the 
heads  of  the  fire-horses.  In  falling  you  struck  your 
head  against  the  iron  grating  of  a  sewer  inlet." 

"Umph!"  said  Blount,  and  the  face- wrinkling 
which  was  meant  to  be  a  sardonic  smile  turned  itself 
into  a  painful  grin.  "Shot  to  death  by  a  dog! 
Blenkinsop  or  some  of  the  others  ought  to  have  run 
that  for  a  head-line."  Then,  with  a  twist  of  the  hot 
eyeballs:  "This  isn't  my  room.  Where  am  I?" 

"You  are  in  the  spare  room  of  our  suite.  Your 
father  had  you  brought  here  so  that  we  could  take 
care  of  you  properly.  But  you  mustn't  talk  too 
much;  it's  the  doctor's  orders." 

Blount  lay  for  a  long  time  watching  her  as  she 
passed  the  needle  in  and  out  through  the  bit  of 
snowy  linen  stretched  upon  the  tiny  embroidery- 
ring.  She  had  fine  eyes,  he  admitted;  eyes  with  the 
little  downward  curve  in  brow  and  lid  at  the  outer 
corners — the  curve  of  allurement,  he  had  heard  it 
called.  Also,  her  hands  were  shapely  and  pretty. 
He  recalled  the  saying  that  a  woman  may  keep  her 
age  out  of  her  face,  but  her  hands  will  betray  her. 
Mrs.  Honoria's  hands  were  still  young;  they  looked 
almost  as  young  as  Patricia's,  he  decided.  At  the 
comparison  he  broke  over  the  rule  of  silence. 

"Does  Patricia  know?"  he  asked. 


BLOOD  AND  IRON  329 

"Certainly.  She  has  been  here  nearly  all  morn 
ing.  She  wouldn't  let  anybody  else  hold  your  head 
while  the  doctor  was  sewing  it  up." 

"I  know,"  he  returned;  "that  is  a  part  of  her — 
of  her  special  training:  first  aid  to  the  injured,  and 
all  that.  They  teach  it  in  the  German  sociological 
schools  she  attended  last  year." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  see" — with  a  malicious  little  smile 
to  accentuate  the  curving  downdroop  of  the  pretty 
eyelids.  "You  mean  that  she  was  just  getting  a 
bit  of  practice.  I  wondered  why  she  was  so  will 
ing;  most  young  women  are  so  silly  about  the  sight 
of  a  little  blood.  Don't  you  think  you'd  better  try 
to  sleep  for  a  while?  Doctor  Dillon  said  it  would 
be  good  for  you  if  you  could." 

"Heavens  and  earth!"  he  chanted  impatiently; 
"I'm  not  sick!"  And  then,  with  a  sharp  fear  stab 
bing  him:  "What  day  is  this,  please?" 

She  looked  up  with  a  smile.  "Are  you  wonder 
ing  if  you  have  lost  a  day?  You  haven't.  The  fire 
was  at  three  o'clock  this  morning,  and  this  is  Sat 
urday." 

As  if  the  naming  of  the  day  had  been  a  spell  to 
strike  him  dumb,  Blount  shut  his  eyes  and  groped 
helplessly  for  some  hand-hold  upon  the  suddenly  re 
habilitated  responsibilities.  Saturday — the  day  when 
Gryson  would  return  with  the  proofs  which,  if  they 
were  to  serve  any  good  end,  must  be  given  the  widest 
possible  publicity  in  the  two  days  remaining  before 
the  election.  Blount  recalled  his  carefully  laid  plans : 
he  had  intended  giving  Collins  and  the  two  record 


330    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

clerks  a  half-holiday,  so  that  Gryson  might  come 
and  go  unnoticed.  Also,  he  had  meant  to  make  a 
definite  appointment  with  Blenkinsop  and  the  rep 
resentative  of  the  United  Press,  to  the  end  that  there 
might  be  no  delay  in  the  firing  of  the  mine.  Lastly, 
Gryson  must  be  shielded  and  gotten  out  of  the  city 
in  safety;  so  much  the  traitor  had  a  right  to  de 
mand  if  he  should  risk  his  liberty  and  his  life  by 
returning  with  the  evidence. 

It  was  a  hideous  tangle  to  owe  itself  to  the  joy 
ous  gambollings  of  the  firemen's  mascot  dog.  And 
there  was  more  to  it  than  the  hopeless  smashing  of 
the  Saturday's  plans.  Into  the  midst  of  the  mor 
dant  reflections,  and  adding  a  sting  which  was  all 
its  own,  came  the  thought  of  this  newest  obligation 
laid  upon  him  by  his  father  and  his  father's  wife. 
They  had  taken  him  in  and  were  loading  him  down 
with  kinsman  gifts  of  care  and  loving-kindness,  while 
his  purpose  had  been — must  still  be — to  strike  back 
like  a  merciless  enemy.  He  remembered  the  old 
fable  of  the  adder  warmed  to  life  in  a  man's  bosom, 
and  it  left  him  sick  and  nerveless. 

None  the  less,  the  obsession  of  the  indomitable 
purpose  persisted,  gripping  him  like  the  compelling 
hand  of  a  giant  in  whose  grasp  he  was  powerless. 
For  a  time  he  sought  to  escape,  not  realizing  that 
the  obsession  was  the  call  of  the  blood  passed  on 
from  the  men  of  his  race  who,  with  axe  and  rifle, 
had  hewn  and  fought  their  way  in  the  primeval  wil 
derness,  and  would  not  be  denied.  Neither  did  he 
suspect  that  the  dominating  passion  driving  him  on 


BLOOD  AND  IRON  331 

was  his  best  gift  from  the  man  against  whom  he  was 
pitting  his  strength.  What  he  did  presently  realize 
was  that  the  giant  grip  of  purpose  was  not  to  be 
broken;  and  thereupon  a  vast  cunning  came  to  pos 
sess  him.  He  must  have  time  and  a  chance  to  plan 
again:  if  he  should  feign  sleep,  perhaps  the  woman 
whose  presence  and  personality  were  shackling  the 
inventive  thought  would  go  away  and  leave  him 
free  to  think. 

She  did  go  after  a  while,  though  so  noiselessly 
that  when  he  opened  his  eyes  it  was  with  the  fear 
that  he  should  see  her  still  bending  over  the  little 
embroidery  frame  at  the  window.  Finding  himself 
alone,  he  sat  up  in  bed  and  gave  the  broken  head  an 
opportunity  to  blot  him  out  if  it  could.  For  a  little 
space  the  walls  of  the  room  became  as  the  interior 
of  a  hollow  peg- top,  spinning  furiously  with  a  noise 
like  the  rushing  of  many  waters.  After  the  sur 
roundings  had  resumed  their  normal  figurings  he 
rose  to  his  knees.  There  was  another  grapple  with 
the  whirling  peg-top,  and  again  he  mastered  the 
dizzying  confusion.  Made  bold  by  success,  he  got 
his  feet  on  the  floor  and  stood  up,  clinging  to  the 
brass  foot-rail  of  the  bed  until  the  unstable  encom- 
passments  had  once  more  come  to  rest. 

By  this  time  he  was  able  to  conquer  all  save  the 
throbbing  headache.  Shuffling  first  to  one  door 
and  then  to  the  other,  he  shot  the  bolts  against  in 
trusion.  Then  he  staggered  across  to  the  dressing- 
case  and  took  a  look  at  himself  in  the  glass.  The 
bandaged  head,  with  its  haggard,  pain-distorted  face 


332    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

grimacing  back  at  him,  extorted  a  grunt  of  sardonic 
disapproval,  but  the  mirror  answered  the  query 
which  had  sent  him  stumbling  across  to  it.  The 
bandage  was  comparatively  small  and  tightly  drawn; 
a  soft  hat  could  be  worn  over  it — the  hat  would  cover 
and  decently  hide  it. 

Next  he  found  his  clothes,  those  he  had  been 
wearing  at  the  time  of  the  accident.  Somebody  had 
been  thoughtful  enough  to  have  them  cleaned  and 
pressed;  from  which  he  argued  that  the  plunging 
fall  on  the  wet  asphalt  had  been  demoralizing  in 
more  ways  than  one.  Continuing  the  experimental 
venture,  he  walked  back  and  forth  and  up  and  down 
until  he  could  do  it  without  clutching  at  the  bed- 
rails  to  save  himself  from  falling.  Then  he  reshot 
the  door-bolts  and  went  back  to  bed  to  await  devel 
opments. 

The  first  of  these  came  when  Patricia  brought  his 
luncheon.  He  had  been  wondering  if  she  would  be 
the  one  to  come;  wondering  and  hoping.  With  the 
unfilial  purpose  driving  him  on,  there  were  added 
twinges  at  the  thought  of  his  father's  wife  going  on 
piling  the  mountain  of  obligation  higher  and  still 
higher  by  waiting  upon  him,  and  thus  reminding 
him  at  every  turn  of  the  adder  fable.  With  Pa 
tricia  it  was  different. 

"Good  morning,"  he  grimaced,  when  Patricia 
came  in  with  the  daintily  appointed  server.  "Get 
ting  a  bit  more  of  the  first-aid  practice,  are  you?" 

"I  am  obeying  orders,"  she  flashed  back,  when 
she  had  shaken  up  the  pillows  and  placed  the  ap- 


BLOOD  AND  IRON  333 

petizing  meal  within  his  reach.  "Mrs.  Blount  said 
I'd  probably  have  a  less  disturbing  influence  upon 
you  than  she  would.  Shall  I  feed  you?" 

"Good  heavens,  no!  I'm  not  that  near  dead,  I 
hope !  If  you  don't  believe  it,  you  may  sit  down  and 
watch  me  eat — if  you're  not  missing  your  own  lunch 


eon." 


"Nurses  have  no  regular  meal-times,"  she  re 
torted.  And  then:  "You  are  feeling  a  great  deal 
better,  aren't  you?" 

"Much  better — since  you  came.  Did  they  tell 
you  it  was  a  dog?" 

She  nodded,  and  he  went  on. 

"It  was  my  unlucky  night,  I  guess.  Did  the  fire 
burn  up  my  office?  I  forgot  to  ask  Mrs.  Blount 
about  that." 

"No;  it  was  a  building  across  the  street  from  the 
Temple  Court." 

"' Small  favors  thankfully  received/"  he  quoted, 
resolutely  pushing  a  fresh  recurrence  of  the  tom 
tom  beatings  into  the  background;  "small  favors 
and  larger  ones  in  proportion— this  broth,  for  ex 
ample.  It's  simply  delicious.  I  hadn't  realized  how 
hungry  I  was." 

"The  broth  ought  to  be  good;  I  made  it  myself, 
you  know." 

"You  did?    Where,  for  pity's  sake?" 

"In  the  hotel  kitchen.  The  chef  was  furious 
at  first.  He  twirled  his  Napoleon-III  mustaches 
and  sputtered  and  swelled  up  like  an  angry  old 
turkey.  But  when  I  talked  nice  to  him  in  his 


334    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

own  beloved  Bordelaise  he  let  me  do  anything  I 
pleased." 

Blount  looked  up  quickly,  and  the  movement 
brought  the  head-throbbings  back  with  disconcert 
ing  celerity. 

"You  are  cruelly  kind  to  me,  Patricia;  everybody 
is  kind  to  me.  And  I'm  not  needing  kindness  just 
now,"  he  ended. 

"Aren't  you?  I  don't  agree  with  you,  and  I'm 
sure  your  father  and  Mrs.  Blount  wouldn't."  Then 
she  went  on  to  tell  him  how  they  had  all  been  up, 
watching  the  progress  of  the  fire  from  their  windows, 
when  the  word  came  that  he  had  been  hurt  in  the 
street.  Also,  she  told  how  his  father  had  impatiently 
smashed  the  telephone  because,  the  wires  having 
been  cut  and  tangled  in  the  fire,  he  could  get  no  re 
sponse,  and  how,  thereupon,  he  had  turned  the  en 
tire  night  force  of  the  hotel  out  to  go  in  search  of  a 
doctor.  "But  with  all  that,  he  couldn't  stand  it  to 
look  on  while  the  doctor  was  taking  the  stitches," 
she  added.  "He  turned  his  back  and  tramped  over 
here  to  the  window;  and  I  could  hear  him  gritting 
his  teeth  and — and  swearing." 

If  Evan  Blount  ate  faster  than  a  sick  man  should, 
it  was  because  there  are  limits  to  the  finest  forti 
tude.  Patricia  ran  on  cheerfully,  minimizing  her 
own  part  in  the  first-aid  incidents,  and  magnifying 
the  anxious  and  affectionate  concern  of  the  senator 
and  his  wife.  He  listened  because  he  could  not 
help  it;  but  when  he  had  finished,  and  she  was 
inquiring  if  there  was  anything  else  she  could  do 


BLOOD  AND   IRON  335 

for  him,  he  dissembled,  saying  that  he  would  try 
to  sleep,  and  asking  her  to  shut  out  more  of  the 
daylight  and  to  deny  him  to  everybody  until  evening. 

She  promised;  but  naturally  enough,  with  the 
dreadful  responsibility  drawing  nearer  with  every 
hour-striking  of  the  tiny  leather-cased  travelling-clock 
on  the  dresser,  sleep  was  out  of  the  question  for  him. 
Hot-eyed  and  restless,  he  wore  out  the  long  after 
noon  in  feverish  impatience,  slipping  now  and  then 
into  the  shadow  land  of  delirium  when  the  pain  was 
severest,  but  clinging  always  to  the  obsessing  idea. 
At  whatever  cost,  the  crisis  must  find  him  resolute 
to  do  his  part.  Gryson  must  be  met,  the  evidence 
of  fraud  must  be  secured,  and  the  fraud  itself  must 
be  defeated. 

The  bright  autumn  day  was  fading  to  its  twilight, 
and  the  shadows  were  gathering  around  his  bed, 
when  Patricia  tiptoed  in  to  ask,  first,  if  he  were 
awake,  and,  next,  what  he  would  like  to  have  for 
his  supper.  Exhausted  by  the  waiting  battle,  he 
answered  briefly:  he  was  not  hungry;  if  he  could 
be  left  alone  again,  with  the  assurance  that  no  one 
would  come  to  disturb  him,  it  was  all  he  would  ask. 
He  tried  to  say  it  crustily,  with  the  irritable  impa 
tience  of  the  convalescent — dissembling  again.  But 
the  young  woman  with  a  self-sacrificial  career  in 
view  had  lost  none  of  her  womanly  gift  of  sym 
pathetic  intuition. 

"You  are  not  so  well  this  evening,"  she  said  softly, 
laying  a  cool  palm  on  his  forehead.  "I  think  I'd 
better  telephone  Doctor  Dillon." 


336    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Now  the  thing  for  Patricia's  lover  to  do  was  ob 
vious.  With  pity  thus  trembling  on  the  very  crum 
bling  brink  of  love,  the  opportunity  which  months  of 
patient  wooing  had  not  evoked  lay  ready  to  his  hand. 
It  was  a  fair  measure  of  the  mastery  an  obsession 
may  obtain — the  lover's  ability  to  thrust  the  gentler 
emotion  into  the  background,  to  feign  restless  irri 
tation  under  the  passion-stirring  touch,  and  to  say: 
"No;  I  don't  want  Dillon  or  anybody;  I  want  to 
be  left  alone.  Please  latch  the  door  when  you  go 
out,  and  tell  father  and  his — and  Mrs.  Blount  that 
I  don't  want  to  be  disturbed." 

She  took  the  curt  dismissal  in  silence,  and  after 
she  was  gone  Blount  sat  up  in  bed  and  cursed  him 
self  fervently  and  painstakingly  for  the  little  brutal 
ity.  But  the  remorseful  cursings  took  nothing  from 
the  grim  determination  which  had  prompted  the 
brutality.  The  dusk  was  thickening,  and  the  street 
electrics  were  turning  the  avenue  into  a  broad  high 
way  of  radiance.  Blount  got  up,  and  with  a  dis 
heartening  renewal  of  the  splitting  headache,  began 
to  dress,  but  there  were  many  pauses  in  which  he 
had  to  sit  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  to  wait  for  the 
throbbing  pain  to  subside. 

The  next  step  was  to  reach  his  own  room,  two 
floors  above,  and  he  let  himself  cautiously  into  the 
corridor  and  locked  the  door  from  the  outside. 
Making  a  long  round  to  avoid  the  elevators,  he 
dragged  himself  up  two  flights  of  stairs  and  so  came 
to  his  goal. 

Enveloped  in  a  rain-coat,  and  with  a  soft  hat 


BLOOD  AND  IRON  337 

drawn  well  over  his  eyes,  he  compassed  the  escape 
from  the  upper  floor  by  means  of  the  remote  stair 
he  had  used  in  ascending,  and  so  reached  the 
ground-floor.  Fortunately,  the  lobby  was  crowded; 
and  turning  up  the  collar  of  the  rain-coat  to  hide 
the  bandage,  Blount  worked  his  way  toward  the 
revolving  doors.  More  than  once  in  the  dodging 
progress  he  rubbed  shoulders  with  men  whom  he 
knew,  and  who  knew  him;  but  the  shielding  hat- 
brim  and  the  muffling  rain-coat  saved  him. 

Reaching  the  street,  he  did  not  attempt  to  walk 
to  the  Temple  Court.  Instead,  he  crept  around  to 
a  garage  near  the  hotel  and  hired  a  two-seated 
road-car.  Quite  naturally,  the  garage-keeper  wanted 
to  send  his  own  driver,  and  Blount  counted  it  as  an 
unavoidable  misfortune  that  he  was  obliged  to  give 
his  name,  and  to  hear  the  motor-liveryman  say: 
"Oh,  sure!  I  didn't  recognize  you,  Mr.  Blount.  I 
reckon  Senator  Dave's  son  can  have  anything  o' 
mine  that  he  wants." 

Blount  drove  the  road-car  all  the  way  around  the 
Capitol  grounds  to  come  into  his  office  street  incon 
spicuously.  Across  from  the  Temple  Court  the  fire 
ruins  were  still  smouldering,  and  there  was  an  acrid 
odor  of  stale  smoke  in  the  air.  For  a  full  third  of 
the  block  the  street  was  littered  with  debris.  Blount 
stopped  his  machine  at  the  nearest  corner  and  got 
out  to  reconnoitre  the  office-building  entrance.  In 
the  vestibule  he  glanced  up  at  the  face  of  the  illu 
minated  wall-clock,  making  a  hasty  calculation  based 
upon  the  leaving  time  of  the  east-bound  Overland. 


338    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

There  were  fifty  minutes  to  spare,  and  when  he 
reached  his  office,  and  had  turned  on  the  desk- 
light  and  dropped  heavily  into  his  chair,  he  called 
up  the  railroad  station  to  inquire  about  the  train. 
The  Overland  was  reported  ten  minutes  late.  If 
Gryson  should  show  up  in  time,  this  earliest  out 
going  train  must  be  made  to  serve  as  the  means  for 
his  flight. 

Blount  had  scarcely  formulated  the  condition  when 
the  office-door  winged  noiselessly,  and  the  man  him 
self,  hollow-eyed  and  haggard,  stumbled  in.  As  once 
before,  Blount  got  up  and  went  to  shut  the  door 
and  lock  it.  When  he  came  back,  Gryson  had  taken 
his  seat  in  a  chair  at  the  desk-end,  where  the  light 
from  the  shaded  working-lamp  fell  upon  his  sinister 
face. 

"  Well,  I've  been  all  th'  way  t'  hell  and  back  ag'in," 
he  announced  in  a  grating  whisper.  "They've  put 
th'  reward  out,  and  three  times  since  last  night  some 
of  me  own  pals  Ve  tried  to  snitch  on  me."  Then 
he  drew  a  carefully  wrapped  package  from  its  hiding- 
place  under  his  coat  and  laid  it  on  the  desk.  "It's 
all  there,"  he  went  on  in  the  same  rasping  under 
tone.  "Some  of  'em  give  up  to  get  square  wit'  th' 
bosses,  and  some  of  'em  had  to  have  a  gun  shoved 
in  their  faces.  No  matter;  they've  come  across— 
the  last  damn'  wan  of  'em;  and  th'  affidavits  are 
there,  too — when  I  c'd  get  next  to  a  dub  of  a  not'ry 
that'd  make  'em." 

Blount  did  not  untie  the  package,  nor  did  be 
cross-examine  the  traitor.  His  head  was  throbbing 


BLOOD  AND  IRON  339 

again  almost  unbearably,  and  he  was  beginning  to 
fear  that  he  might  not  last  to  carry  out  the  plan  of 
safe-conduct  for  the  informer.  Slipping  the  precious 
package  into  an  inner  pocket  of  the  enveloping  coat, 
he  took  a  compact  roll  of  bank-bills  from  a  drawer 
in  the  desk  and  gave  it  to  Gryson,  saying  tersely: 
"That  isn't  a  bribe,  you  understand;  it's  merely  to 
help  you  make  your  getaway.  Can  you  manage 
to  ride  on  Transcontinental  trains  without  being 
recognized  offhand?" 

Gryson  pulled  a  fajse  beard  from  his  pocket  and 
showed  it.  "Wit'  that,  and  me  old  hat,  I've  been 
keepin'  most  o'  th'  boys  from  tippin'  me  off/'  he 
said. 

"All  right;  here's  the  lay-out.  You  have  earned 
immunity,  so  far  as  this  latest  raid  on  you  is  con 
cerned,  by  turning  State's  evidence.  But  you've  got 
to  move  on,  and  keep  moving.  Do  you  get  that?" 

The  fugitive  nodded,  and  Blount  got  up  to  stag 
ger  across  to  the  office  wardrobe,  from  which  he  took 
the  extra  rain-coat  kept  there  for  emergencies. 

"Here,  get  into  this  and  go  down-stairs.  At  the 
corner  above,  you'll  find  a  two-seated  motor-car 
backed  against  the  curb.  Do  you  know  enough 
about  machinery  to  start  an  auto-engine?" 

Gryson  nodded  again.  "I'd  ought  to,  seein'  that 
I've  been  a  gang  boss  in  a  shop  that  made  'em." 

"Good  enough;  crank  the  motor,  climb  in,  and 
wait.  I'll  do  the  rest." 

Five  minutes  later,  Blount  had  stumbled  out  of 
the  elevator  at  the  ground-floor  and  was  groping 


340    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

his  way  along  the  sidewalk  toward  the  corner — 
groping  because  the  pain  had  become  blinding  again 
and  the  street-lights  were  taking  on  many-colored 
and  fantastic  brilliancies. 

When  he  finally  found  the  car,  it  was  mainly  by 
the  sense  of  hearing;  the  motor  was  drumming  softly 
under  the  hood,  and  there  was  a  blur  in  the  mecha 
nician's  seat  which  answered  for  the  crouching  figure 
of  the  ward- worker.  By  a  supreme  effort  of  will 
Blount  swung  himself  up  behind  the  steering-wheel 
and  let  the  clutch  in.  Luckily,  the  street  was  clear 
of  vehicles  and  he  made  the  turn  in  safety;  but 
fully  realizing  his  handicap,  he  steered  straight  away 
from  the  business  district,  and  making  a  wide  cir 
cuit  through  the  residence  quarter,  brought  the 
car  out  in  the  eastern  suburb  at  the  beginning  of  a 
road  paralleling  the  Transcontinental  tracks. 

With  the  lights  of  the  city  dropping  away  to  the 
rear,  and  the  drumming  motor  quickened  to  racing 
speed,  he  told  the  fugitive  from  justice  what  was  to 
be  done  and  the  manner  of  its  doing.  Twenty-two 
miles  out  they  would  reach  the  coal-mine  station  of 
Wardlaw,  a  few  minutes  ahead  of  the  Overland. 
Since  all  east-bound  trains  stopped  at  the  coal-mines 
to  coal  the  engines,  the  way  of  escape  would  be  open. 

Something  more  than  a  wordless,  space-devouring 
half-hour  beyond  this,  Blount  applied  the  brakes 
and  dropped  his  passenger  at  the  rear  of  the  small 
iron-roofed  building  which  served  as  the  railroad 
station  for  the  coal-mines.  Far  to  the  rear  on  the 
twenty-two-mile  tangent  the  headlight  of  the  com- 


BLOOD   AND  IRON  341 

ing  train  showed  like  a  blazing  star  low  on  the  west 
ern  horizon. 

"Go  and  blacken  your  face  and  hands  at  one  of 
the  slack  dumps  and  pass  yourself  for  a  miner  quit 
ting  his  job,"  was  Blount 's  parting  suggestion;  but 
the  hollow-eyed  fugitive  had  a  last  word  to  say,  too, 
and  he  said  it. 

"I've  been  t'  hell  and  back,  as  I  told  you,  and 
'twas  f'r  on'y  th'  wan  thing:  give  me  your  word, 
Evan  Blount,  that  you'll  chop  th'  damn'  tree  down 
and  let  it  lie  where  it  falls!  That's  all  I'm  askin', 
this  trip." 

"You  needn't  lose  any  sleep  worrying  about  that," 
was  the  curt  reply;  and  without  waiting  for  the 
train  arrival,  Blount  turned  the  car  and  sent  it 
racing  on  the  way  back  to  the  city. 

By  all  the  tests  he  knew  how  to  apply,  he  was 
little  better  than  a  dead  man  when  he  returned  the 
hired  auto  to  the  side-street  garage  and  made  his 
halting  way  around  to  the  hotel.  He  had  long 
since  given  up  the  idea  of  trying  to  see  Blenkinsop. 
He  knew  that  the  editor  would  not  be  in  his  office 
much  before  ten  o'clock,  and  the  two-hour  wait  was 
not  to  be  endured. 

Clinging  desperately  to  the  single  purpose  of  get 
ting  back  to  the  deserted  room  before  his  absence 
should  be  discovered,  and  weighed  down  by  a  crush 
ing  sense  of  the  immorality  of  the  step  he  had  just 
taken  in  bargaining  with  a  hunted  criminal  and  in 
conniving  at  his  escape,  he  pressed  on,  pushing 
through  the  revolving  doors  and  slipping  once  more 


342    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

into  the  Saturday  evening  lobby  throng.  Edging 
around  to  the  stair,  he  took  all  the  cautious  steps  in 
reverse;  ascending  first  to  his  own  room  to  leave  the 
rain-coat  and  the  hat,  and  afterward  feeling  his  way 
down  the  servants'  stair  and  through  the  lower  cor 
ridor  to  the  locked  door  in  his  father's  private  suite. 
Past  this  he  had  a  hazy  notion  that  part  of  him 
— the  observing  part — stood  aside  and  looked  on 
while  the  other  part  slowly  and  painfully  struggled 
out  of  its  clothes  and  into  its  pajamas.  Also  he 
saw  the  other  part,  after  it  had  carefully  secreted 
the  wrapped  package  of  papers  under  the  mattress, 
beat  the  pillows  feebly  and  bury  its  head  in  them. 
After  that  there  was  a  great  blank. 


XXVI 

APPLES  OF  GOLD 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  pillow-muffled  plunge 
which  was  almost  a  lapse  into  the  coma  of  utter 
exhaustion,  Evan  Blount  awoke  early  on  the  Sun 
day  morning,  refreshed  and  measurably  free  from 
pain.  Since  the  sun  was  just  beginning  to  gild  the 
lofty  finial  on  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  opposite,  there 
was  no  one  stirring  as  yet  in  the  adjoining  rooms  of 
the  suite,  and  the  streets  were  silent  save  for  the 
chanting  cries  of  the  newsboys. 

Slipping  out  of  bed,  Blount  crossed  to  the  window 
and  threw  it  open.  It  was  good  to  be  able  to  stand 
and  walk  without  wincing;  and  a  breath  of  the  sun 
rise  breeze  sweeping  down  from  the  eastern  hills 
was  like  a  draught  of  invigorating  wine.  As  he  leaned 
out  for  an  instant  to  make  sure  that  not  even  the 
height  would  bring  a  return  of  the  vertigo,  the  wail 
of  the  nearest  newsboy  became  shrilly  articulate: 
"  Here's  yer  Morning  Plainsman!  All  erbout  the  great 
election  frauds  !  " 

Hardly  crediting  his  ears,  Blount  listened  again, 
and  when  the  cry  was  repeated  he  closed  the  window 
softly  and  sat  down  to-  grapple  with  this  newest 
development  of  his  problem.  Did  the  newsboy's 

343 


344    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

selling-cry  mean  that  Blenkinsop  had  found  out  for 
himself,  and  independently,  about  the  falsified  reg 
istration  lists?  If  so,  there  would  be  no  public  vin 
dication  for  one  Evan  Blount;  but  also — thank  God! 
—no  need  for  a  son  to  blazon  himself  to  the  world 
as  his  father's  accuser.  A  great  wave  of  thankful 
ness  rolled  over  Blount's  head,  submerging  him  and 
turning  the  exclamation  which  sprang  to  his  lips 
into  a  paean  of  rejoicing.  Instantly  he  saw  himself 
throwing  up  his  railroad  connection  and  taking  his 
rightful  place  as  his  father's  counsel  and  defender. 
Here,  at  last,  was  a  cause  into  which  he  could  fling 
himself  body  and  soul.  True,  people  would  say 
that  he  had  been  in  league  with  the  corporations, 
the  boss,  and  the  machine,  from  the  first,  but  what 
did  that  matter? 

But  would  his  father  need  a  defender?  No 
shadow  of  doubt  as  to  this  was  admissible  in  the 
face  of  the  accumulating  evidence,  he  told  himself. 
From  the  opening  day  of  the  campaign  the  machine 
and  the  corporations  had  been  working  hand  in 
hand;  Gryson  and  his  fellow-crooks  were  the  suffi 
cient  proof;  and  besides  .  .  .  Blount  reached  under 
the  mattress  and  drew  out  the  wrapped  pack 
age,  untying  the  string  with  fingers  that  trembled. 
A  cursory  examination  of  the  affidavits  sufficed.  In 
Gryson's  sworn  statement,  and  in  two  others,  the 
"Big  Boss"  was  inculpated  definitely  and  by  name. 

Blount  glanced  at  the  little  clock  on  the  dressing- 
case.  The  early  Sunday  morning  silence  still  pre 
vailed  in  the  great  hotel,  and  his  resolve  was  quickly 


APPLES  OF  GOLD  345 

taken.  Dressing  hurriedly,  he  went  up  to  his  own 
room,  and  after  a  shave,  a  bath,  and  a  freshening 
change  which  included  the  removal  of  the  disfigur 
ing  bandage,  he  put  on  a  close-fitting  silk  travelling- 
cap  under  the  soft  hat  and  went  down  to  the  lobby. 

There  were  but  few  guests  stirring  at  that  hour, 
and  Blount  had  the  writing-room  to  himself  when 
he  bought  a  copy  of  The  Plainsman  and  turned  anx 
iously  to  the  editorial  page.  After  the  first  thrilling 
of  relief  born  of  the  newsboy's  cry,  an  unnerving  fear 
had  crept  in  to  whisper  that  possibly  the  facts  might 
not  bear  out  the  thankful  assumption.  A  rapid 
reading  of  Blenkinsop's  editorial  confirmed  the  fear, 
and  the  reader's  lips  grew  dry  and  his  breath  came 
quickly  when  he  realized  that  the  submerging  wave 
of  thankfulness  had  risen  only  to  be  driven  back. 
Blenkinsop  had  no  facts,  no  evidence;  he  was  merely 
hitting  out  blindly  with  a  general  accusation  of  fraud 
which  he  made  no  effort  to  substantiate  or  prove! 

Evan  Blount  saw  the  thorny  path  stretching  away 
before  him  again,  and  he  rose  up  to  walk  in  it  like 
a  man.  As  once  before,  he  went  down  to  the  rail 
road  restaurant  for  his  breakfast,  seeking  solitude, 
and  the  meal  had  been  half-absently  eaten  before 
he  had  readjusted  himself,  sorrowfully  but  firmly, 
to  the  unchanged  situation.  His  duty  was  as  clearly 
defined  now  as  it  had  been  the  day  previous,  or  at 
any  time  in  the  past.  There  was  nothing  changed, 
nothing  different,  save  that  a  new  complication  had 
arisen  in  the  crucial  shortness  of  the  interval  for  ac 
tion.  Knowing  human  nature  a  little,  he  knew  how 


346    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

difficult  it  is  to  arouse  an  effective  public  sentiment 
on  the  eve  of  an  election,  no  matter  how  important 
the  issues  involved.  In  a  hard  school  of  experience 
the  voter  has  learned  to  discount  the  final-moment 
cry  of  fraud.  Would  an  exposure,  however  convin 
cing,  appearing  only  in  the  Monday  and  Tuesday 
morning  newspapers  have  the  desired  effect? 

Blount  walked  by  devious  ways  from  the  railroad 
station  to  the  Temple  Court,  and  secluded  himself 
behind  the  locked  door  of  his  office  to  have  a  chance 
to  think  the  problem  out  to  some  effective  conclu 
sion.  What  should  he  do?  Should  he  find  Blen- 
kinsop  and  get  him  and  the  United  Press  repre 
sentative  together  at  once,  laying  before  them  the 
damning  evidence  and  telling  them  to  use  it  as  they 
could?  Or  was  there  some  surer  way  of  firing  the 
mine  of  protest  and  exposure? 

There  was  one  other  way,  at  least,  but  the  mere 
thought  of  it  made  him  sick  and  shaken.  As  an 
upright  citizen  and  a  member  of  the  bar,  was  it 
not  his  duty  to  lay  the  evidence,  not  before  the  pub 
lic  in  the  newspapers,  but  before  a  competent  court 
of  justice?  And  in  that  event,  was  there  in  this 
land  of  graft  and  corruption  a  judge  sufficiently 
fearless  and  incorruptible  to  act  with  the  needful 
vigor  and  promptness? 

When  Blount  asked  himself  this  question,  the 
answer  came  quickly.  Though  it  was  the  common 
accusation,  well  or  ill  founded,  that  the  lower  courts 
of  the  State  were  the  creatures  of  the  corporations, 
the  judges  on  the  supreme  bench  still  commanded 


APPLES  OF  GOLD  347 

the  respect  of  the  people.  Hemingway,  the  chief 
justice,  was  peculiarly  a  man  for  a  crisis;  strong, 
honest,  and  entirely  fearless;  a  man  who  would  not 
stop  to  haggle  over  nice  questions  of  precedent  and 
jurisdiction  where  the  public  welfare  demanded 
prompt  and  effective  action. 

For  a  long  half-hour  Blount  sat  staring  absently 
at  the  desk  litter,  trying  to  decide  between  the 
two  courses  open  to  him.  He  knew  that  his  father 
and  Judge  Hemingway  had  been  lifelong  friends, 
and  this  added  another  drop  of  bitterness  to  a  cup 
which  was  already  overflowing.  None  the  less,  he 
was  confident  that  the  judge  would  do  his  duty  as 
he  saw  it.  It  was  a  merciless  thing  to  do — to 
make  this  just  judge  the  slayer  of  the  friend  of  his 
youth;  but  at  the  end  Blount  reached  for  the 
telephone-book  and  began  to  search  for  the  chief 
justice's  residence  number.  Before  he  could  find  it 
the  phone  bell  rang. 

"Well?"  he  answered  shortly,  putting  the  receiver 
to  his  ear. 

It  was  Miss  Anners  who  was  at  the  other  end  of 
the  wire,  and  he  was  instantly  aware  of  the  note  of 
anxiety  in  her  voice. 

"  Evan  !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  you  don't  know  what  a 
fright  you  have  given  us!  What  are  you  doing  at 
your  office  when  you  ought  to  be  here  and  in  bed?" 

Blount  drew  the  desk  instrument  closer  and  tried 
to  put  her  off  lightly. 

"I'm  all  right  again.  I  turned  out  early  this 
morning  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  You  wouldn't 


348    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

expect  me  to  stay  in  bed  for  more  than  a  day  to 
oblige  a  common,  ordinary  coach-dog,  would  you?" 

"Yes,  but  see  here — listen:  Doctor  Dillon  has 
been  here,  and  he  is  perfectly  shocked.  He  says 
there  may  be  complications,  and  the  very  least  you 
can  do  is  to  be  careful.  Your  father  has  had  the 
hotel  boys  looking  everywhere  for  you.  When  are 
you  coming  back?" 

Here  was  the  direct  question  which  Blount  had 
been  dreading.  Now,  if  never  before,  the  wretched 
involvement  had  reached  a  point  beyond  which  it 
was  impossible  to  follow  his  father's  plea  for  a  con 
tinuance  of  the  kinsman  amenities. 

"I  think  you  had  better  leave  me  out  of  any  plans 
you  are  making  for  the  day,"  he  answered  evasively. 
"I  shall  be  pretty  busy." 

"No — listen,"  she  insisted.  "It's  wrong  to  work 
on  Sunday,  but  if  you  will  be  obstinate,  you  must 
stop  at  luncheon-time.  We  are  going  to  drive  out 
to  Wartrace  Hall  this  afternoon;  Doctor  Dillon  says 
we  positively  must  take  you  away  from  town  and 
keep  you  quiet  for  a  few  days." 

"I  can't  go  with  you,"  he  answered  brusquely, 
adding:  "And  I'm  not  sure  that  I  can  join  you  at 
luncheon.  There  is  so  much  to  be  done  that  I  shall 
probably  drop  around  to  the  club  for  a  bite  at  one 
o'clock.  Don't  wait  for  me,  and  don't  worry. 
Above  all,  please  don't  tell  anybody  where  I  am — 
not  even  Dick  Gantry." 

He  was  considerably  relieved  when  she  said 
"Good-by"  rather  abruptly,  and  rang  off.  None 


APPLES  OF  GOLD  349 

the  less,  he  thought  it  a  little  strange  that  his  father 
should  be  planning  to  leave  the  capital  on  the  very 
eve  of  the  great  struggle.  Was  he  so  sure  that  noth 
ing  could  happen  within  the  next  twenty-four  hours? 
Leaving  the  query  answerless,  he  returned  to  the 
interrupted  duty.  Deliberately,  with  the  open  tele 
phone-book  before  him,  he  sought  and  found  Judge 
Hemingway's  number;  and  a  few  seconds  later  he 
had  the  judge's  house  in  Mesa  Circle,  with  the 
judge  himself  answering  his  call.  The  wire  conver 
sation  was  brief  and  to  the  point.  Cautiously,  and 
in  well-guarded  phrase,  Blount  stated  his  case.  By 
a  series  of  correlated  incidents  which  could  be  ex 
plained  later,  documentary  evidence  of  a  great  con 
spiracy  had  fallen  into  his  hands;  would  the  judge 
step  aside  so  far  as  to  accord  him  a  Sunday  inter 
view,  taking  his  word  for  it  that  the  emergency  was 
most  urgent,  and  that  the  time  was  too  short  to 
admit  of  the  ordinary  methods  of  procedure? 

The  judge's  answer  was  satisfactory,  though 
Blount  fancied  it  was  rather  reluctantly  given.  A 
family  engagement — an  accepted  luncheon  invita 
tion — would  intervene;  but  between  four  and  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  chief  justice  would  be 
in  his  chambers  in  the  Capitol  building,  and  would 
be  glad  to  have  the  son  of  his  old  friend  the  senator 
come  at  that  hour. 

With  time  on  his  hands,  Blount  squared  himself 
at  his  desk  and  began  to  set  his  railroad  house  in 
order.  Now  that  the  dreadful  step  was  practically 
taken,  he  was  free  to  wind  up  the  business  of  his 


350    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

office,  leaving  things  in  order  for  his  successor.  Once 
he  had  thought  that  he  could  not  stay  in  the  capital 
or  in  the  West  after  the  cataclysm.  But  now  the 
manlier  thought  prevailed.  A  hard  fate  was  making 
him  his  father's  betrayer;  but  beyond  the  betrayal, 
with  the  bare  duty  done,  he  would  take  his  place 
as  his  father's  son,  proving  his  love  and  loyalty  by 
going  down  with  him  to  any  depth  of  infamy  into 
which  the  cataclysm  might  drag  him. 

Since  there  was  much  to  be  done  in  the  winding-up 
task,  the  forenoon  fled  quickly,  and  the  hands  of  the 
small  paper-weight  clock  on  the  desk  were  pointing 
to  a  quarter  of  two  when  Blount  snapped  the  rubber 
band  upon  the  final  file  of  referred  papers.  There 
were  other  odds  and  ends  to  be  set  in  order,  but  he 
determined  to  let  them  wait  until  he  had  eaten.  A 
scant  half -hour  in  the  club  grill-room  was  all  he  al 
lowed  himself,  and  at  a  quarter  past  two  he  was 
back  at  his  desk,  preparing  to  make  the  cleaning-up 
task  complete.  Between  four  and  five,  Judge  Hem 
ingway  had  said;  and  Blount  began  on  one  of  the 
odds  and  ends,  which  was  the  writing  of  his  letter 
of  resignation  from  the  railroad  service. 

He  was  enclosing  the  letter  when  there  came  a  light 
tap  at  the  office-door,  and  then  the  door  itself  opened 
to  admit  Patricia — a  Patricia  bright-eyed  and  deter 
mined,  alluringly  charming  in  her  tightly  veiled  dri 
ving-hat,  muffling  motor-coat,  and  dainty  gauntlets. 

"You?"  said  Blount  not  too  hospitably.  "I 
thought  you  said  something  about  going  to  War- 
trace?"  ' 


APPLES  OF   GOLD  351 

"So  I  did,  and  so  I  am,"  she  asserted,  coming  to 
sit  in  the  chair  last  occupied  by  one  Thomas  Gryson. 

"And  the  others?"  he  queried. 

"They  have  just  left;  gone  on  ahead  in  the  touring- 
car.  I  was  deputed  to  bring  you." 

"But  I  told  you  this  morning  that  I  couldn't  go, 
and  I  can't!"  he  protested. 

She  looked  him  squarely  in  the  eye.  "Evan,  you 
don't  dare  tell  me  why  you  can't!  " 

"Business,"  he  pleaded. 

"That  may  be  half  of  the  truth,  but  it  isn't  any 
more  than  half."  Then  she  made  the  direct  appeal: 
"I  wish  you'd  tell  me,  Evan.  I  know  a  little — just 
the  little  that  Mrs.  Blount  has  seen  fit  to  tell  me — 
and  no  more.  There  is  trouble  threatening;  some 
dreadful  trouble.  I  saw  it  yesterday  when  you  were 
so  miserable;  I  can  see  it  in  your  eyes  this  minute." 

Blount  got  up  and  began  to  pace  the  floor  so  that 
she  might  not  see  his  eyes.  He  was  no  more  proof 
against  such  an  appeal  than  any  lover  gladly  ready 
to  bare  his  soul  to  the  woman  chosen  out  of  a  world 
of  women  for  his  confidant  and  second  self  would  be. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,"  he  affirmed,  wheeling  abruptly 
to  face  her;  "I  wanted  to  tell  you  yesterday,  only 
it  was  too  horrible.  You  will  know  it  all  when  I 
say  that  by  this  time  to-morrow  the  whole  State 
will  be  ringing  with  the  story  of  David  Blount's 
degradation  and  ruin;  and  I — his  only  son,  Patricia 
— I  shall  be  the  one  who  will  have  betrayed  him  and 
brought  it  to  pass!" 

She  blanched  a  little  at  that,  and  there  was  a 


352    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

great  horror  in  her  eyes.  But  he  noted  at  the 
moment,  and  remembered  it  afterward,  that  she  did 
not  push  him  into  the  harrowing  details,  as  another 
woman  might  have  done. 

"You  are  very  sure,  I  suppose?77  she  said  gently. 

He  drew  the  packet  of  affidavits  from  his  pocket. 

"This  is  the  evidence:  sworn  statements  incrimi 
nating  my  father  and  many  others." 

"You  had  those  papers  yesterday?" 

"No.  I  got  up  last  night  to  keep  my  appointment 
with  the  man  who  brought  them.  But  you  see  now 
why  I  can't  go  to  Wartrace  with  you." 

"I  see  that  you  are  going  to  do  something  for 
which  you  will  never,  never  be  able  to  forgive  your 
self,"  she  said  gravely.  "You  are  going  to  make 
use  of  those  papers?" 

He  sat  down  and  stared  gloomily  at  her.  "Patri 
cia,  I  have  taken  a  solemn  oath.  The  law  which 
I  have  sworn  to  uphold  is  greater  than — "  He  was 
going  to  say,  "greater  than  any  man's  claim  for  im 
munity,"  but  she  finished  the  sentence  otherwise  for 
him. 

"Is  greater  than  your  love  for  your  father.  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  be  able  to  understand  that,  but 
I  am  not.  Evan,  you  can't  do  it — you  mustn't  do 
it;  every  drop  of  that  father's  blood  in  your  veins 
ought  to  cry  out  against  it." 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed  with  a  sudden  indrawing  of 
his  breath.  "You  don't  know  what  it  is  costing  me !" 

"Truly,  I  don't,"  she  asserted  calmly.  "Your 
father  is  a  great  and  good  man.  If  he  had  a  daugh- 


APPLES  OF  GOLD  353 

ter  instead  of  a  son,  she  would  know  and  under 
stand."  Then,  in  a  quick  and  generous  upflash  of 
feeling:  "I  wish  he  had  a  daughter — I  wish  I  were 
she!  I  should  try  to  show  him  that  blood  is  thicker 
than  water!" 

"You  wish — you  were — his  daughter?  Do  you 
realize  what  you  are  saying?"  Then  he  went  on 
brokenly:  "Dorft,  Patricia,  girl — for  God's  sake 
don't  tempt  me  to  do  evil  that  good  may  come! 
Can't  you  understand  how  I  am  driven  to  do  this 
thing — how  every  fibre  of  me  is  rebelling  against 
the  savage  necessity?  God  knows,  I'd  give  any 
thing  I  am  or  hope  to  be  if  the  necessity  could  be 
wiped  out!" 

Instantly  she  changed  her  attack. 

"But  I  say  you  can  not  do  it.  You  are  a  brave 
man,  Evan;  I  know,  because  I  have  seen  you  tried. 
You  mustn't  turn  cowardly  now." 

"Nor  shall  I!"  he  countered  quickly.  "But  I 
don't  understand." 

"Don't  you?  Isn't  it  cowardly  to  strike  this 
cruel  blow  in  the  dark?  You  can't  do  this  thing 
without  giving  your  father  the  warning  that  you 
would  give  your  bitterest  enemy — you  simply  can't, 
and  still  be  the  man  I  have  known  and  1 — liked  for 
two  whole  years!" 

"Father's  going  to  Wartrace  this  afternoon  is 
merely  an  added  twist  of  the  thumb-screws,"  he 
protested  in  fresh  wretchedness.  "I  should  have 
gone  to  him  first — I  meant  to  go  to  him  first.  From 
what  you  said  over  the  telephone  this  morning  I 


354    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

gathered  that  the  Wartrace  trip  was  to  be  made  on 
my  account,  and  I  hoped,  I  believed,  it  would  be 
given  up  when  I  refused  to  go.  Now  I  can  not  see 
him  first;  the  time  is  too  short.  That  which  is  to 
be  done  must  be  done  to-day — this  afternoon;  other 
wise  it  will  be  too  late.  Don't  make  it  any  harder 
for  me,  Patricia.  Surely  you  can  see  how  hard  it  is, 
in  any  case!" 

"As  I  said  a  moment  ago,  I  can  see  that  you  are 
about  to  do  something  for  which,  in  all  the  years 
to  come,  you  will. never  be  able  to  get  your  own 
forgiveness.  Oh,  I  know,"  she  went  on  bitterly. 
"You  will  tell  me  that  I  am  a  woman,  with  only  a 
woman's  standards,  which  are  valueless  when  they 
get  mixed  up  with  the  emotions.  But  I  can  tell 
you  that  I  know  your  father  better  than  you  do- 
much  better.  And  I  believe  in  him,  utterly,  abso 
lutely.  Won't  you  give  him  a  chance,  Evan?  Won't 
you  show  him  those  dreadful  papers  and  ask  him 
what  he  will  do  when  you  have  betrayed  him?" 

Blount  winced  painfully  at  the  hard  word,  and 
then  he  remembered  that  he  had  been  the  first  to 
apply  it.  But  he  answered  her  in  the  only  way 
that  seemed  possible: 

"The  time:  I  have  promised  to  meet  Chief  Jus 
tice  Hemingway  at  his  chambers  between  four  and 
five  this  afternoon." 

"  Chief  Justice  Hemingway?"  she  queried.  "Why, 
he — "  she  broke  off  suddenly  and  sprang  from  her 
chair.  "I  have  the  little  car  here  in  the  street.  It 
was  Mrs.  Blount's  proposal;  she  said  you  would 


APPLES  OF  GOLD  355 

change  your  mind  if  I  came  after  you  and  offered 
to  drive  you.  Come!  I'll  promise  to  bring  you 
back  before  five  o'clock.  I  know  the  time  is  aw 
fully  short,  but  I  can  do  it!" 

If  Blount  hesitated  it  was  only  because  her  beauty 
and  her  eagerness  thrilled  him  until,  for^the  moment, 
he  could  think  of  nothing  else.  Then  he  closed  his 
desk  quickly  and  struggled  into  his  overcoat,  saying: 
"It  shall  be  as  you  wish.  Let's  go." 


XXVII 

IN  WHICH  PATRICIA  DRIVES 

FOR  fifteen  miles  north  of  the  capital  the  Quare- 
taro  road  is  a  well-kept,  level  speedway,  and  Miss 
Aimers  amply  proved  the  worth  of  her  summer's 
training  by  showing  herself  a  fearless  driver.  Half 
an  hour  after  the  small  roadster  had  left  the  curb 
in  front  of  the  Temple  Court  Building  it  was  among 
the  hills  and  climbing  to  the  upper  mesa  level. 

Nearing  the  mouth  of  Shonoho  Canyon,  they 
overtook  and  passed  a  horseman  turning  into  the 
canyon  road.  The  man's  horse  shied  and  threatened 
to  bolt  at  sight  of  the  storming  car,  but  Patricia 
was  looking  straight  ahead,  and  she  made  no  move 
ment  to  slacken  speed.  At  the  passing  glimpse, 
Blount's  mind  went  shuttling  backward  to  the  home 
coming  night  in  the  Lost  Hills,  and  he  made  sure  he 
recognized  the  rider  as  Hathaway's  morose  hench 
man,  the  man  Bar  to. 

He  wondered  vaguely  what  Barto  could  be  doing 
at  the  turn  in  the  obstructed  side-canyon  road, 
and  the  wonder  went  with  him  while  the  little  car 
was  covering  the  remaining  distance  and  flying  up 
the  cottonwood-shaded  avenue  at  Wartrace  Hall. 
But  a  glance  at  his  watch  made  him  forget  the 

356 


IN  WHICH  PATRICIA  DRIVES  357 

Bar  to  incident  in  a  heart- warming  thrill  of  admi 
ration — the  joy  of  a  skilled  motorist  recognizing 
kindred  skill  in  another.  The  thirty  miles  from 
the  city  had  been  made  in  something  under  fifty 
minutes. 

When  she  brought  the  roadster  to  a  stand  at  the 
carriage  entrance,  Patricia  spoke  for  the  first  time 
since  she  had  taken  the  wheel  for  the  record-breaking 
drive. 

"Find  your  father  quickly  and  say  to  him  what 
you  have  come  to  say.  When  you  are  ready  to  go 
back,  I'll  keep  my  promise  and  drive  you." 

"That  won't  be  at  all  necessary,"  he  protested, 
getting  out  to  stand  with  his  hand  on  the  dash.  "I 
am  perfectly  well  able  to  drive  myself;  and,  besides, 
it  would  leave  you  at  the  wrong  end  of  the  road, 
and  alone." 

"Don't  stand  there  talking  about  it,"  she  com 
manded.  "Go  and  do  what  you  have  to  do.  I'll 
wait  here." 

Blount  turned  away  and  found  old  Barnabas 
holding  the  door  open  for  him.  A  word  passed, 
and  the  old  negro  bobbed  his  head.  "Yas,  sah; 
Marsteh  David's  in  de  libra'y,"  was  the  answer  to 
Blount 's  query,  and,  throwing  his  overcoat  and  soft 
hat  aside,  the  bearer  of  burdens  not  his  own  walked 
quickly  through  the  hall  and  let  himself  into  the 
room  of  trial. 

The  bright  autumn  day  was  cool — cool  enough  to 
warrant  the  crackling  wood-fire  on  the  library  hearth. 
With  his  easy  chair  planted  at  the  cosey  corner  of  the 


358    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

fire  and  an  open  book  on  the  table  at  his  elbow,  the 
senator  sat  smoking  his  long-stemmed  pipe  in  the 
Sunday  afternoon  quiet.  Mingled  with  the  fire- 
snapping  there  were  faint  tappings,  as  if  one  of  the 
cottonwoods,  growing  too  near  the  house,  were 
sending  twig  signals  to  the  inmates. 

The  senator  moved  the  open  book  a  little  farther 
aside  when  his  son  made  an  abrupt  entrance  into 
the  cheerful  room. 

"Well,  son,  you  made  out  to  get  here  after  so 
long  a  time,  didn't  you?  "  he  said  gently.  And  then: 
" How's  the  broken  head  to-day?" 

" Better,"  answered  the  son  shortly,  adding:  "It's 
the  least  of  my  troubles  just  now." 

"That's  good,"  was  the  hearty  comment.  Then, 
with  the  long  stem  of  the  pipe  pointing  to  a  Morris- 
chair:  "Draw  up  and  sit  down.  I  reckon  the  drive 
has  tired  you  some,  even  if  you  won't  admit  it. 
Where's  the  little  girl?" 

Evan  Blount  saw  instantly  that  he  must  be  brief 
and  pitiless. 

"Patricia  is  waiting  in  the  car  to  drive  me  back 
to  town,"  he  explained,  forcing  himself  to  speak 
calmly.  "I  have  an  appointment  with  Chief  Jus 
tice  Hemingway  which  must  be  kept,  and  he  will 
wait  in  his  chambers  in  the  capitol  only  until  five 
o'clock.  Father,  do  you  know  why  I  have  made 
that  appointment?" 

The  senator  wagged  his  great  head  in  a  way  which 
might  mean  anything  or  nothing,  and  said:  "How 
should  I  know,  son?" 


IN  WHICH  PATRICIA  DRIVES  359 

"I  hoped  you  would  know.  It's  not  a  very  pleas 
ant  task  for  me  to  tell  you/'  the  younger  man  went 
on,  ignoring  the  chair  to  which  the  long-stemmed 
pipe  was  still  pointing.  "A  short  time  ago — yester 
day,  to  be  exact — evidence,  legal  evidence,  of  cor 
ruption  and  false  registration  in  four  of  the  city 
wards,  and  in  a  number  of  outlying  districts  in  the 
State,  was  put  into  my  hands.  This  evidence  in 
criminates  a  group  of  ringleaders  and  a  still  larger 
number  of  election  officers.  You  know  what  I've 
got  to  do  with  it." 

The  older  man  nodded  slowly. 

"Yes,  I  reckon  I  know,  son;  and  I'm  not  saying 
a  word.  If  you  weren't  a  Blount,  I  might  ask  if 
you  haven't  learned  that  one  of  the  first  rules  in  the 
book  of  politics  is  the  one  that  says  we  mustn't  hang 
the  dirty  clothes  out  where  everybody  can  see  'em, 
but  I  know  better  than  to  say  anything  like  that  to 
you." 

The  young  man's  heart  sank  within  him.  It 
seemed  evident  that  his  father  was  still  unsuspect 
ing,  still  unconscious  of  the  dreadful  consequences 
to  himself.  Only  utter  frankness  could  avail  now. 

"I  can't  discuss  the  question  of  expediency  with 
you,"  he  said  hastily,  "any  further  than  to  say  that 
I'd  cheerfully  give  ten  years  of  my  life  to  be  able 
to  consider  it.  Let  me  be  perfectly  plain:  this  evi 
dence  I  am  speaking  of  involves  you  personally.  If 
the  papers  are  put  into  Judge  Hemingway's  hands 
there  will  be  a  searching  investigation,  prompt  in 
dictments,  criminal  proceedings,  and  all  the  dis- 


360    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

grace  that  the  widest  publicity  can  bring  upon  the 
men  who  are  responsible  for  the  present  desperate 
state  of  affairs." 

The  senator  had  laid  his  pipe  aside  and  was  star 
ing  soberly  into  the  fire.  "Go  on,  son,"  he  said 
quietly;  "let's  have  the  rest  of  it." 

"You  know  what  has  led  up  to  the  present 
wretched  involvement — my  involvement,"  Blount 
went  on.  "When  I  took  the  railroad  job,  I  did  it 
in  good  faith  and  went  about  preaching  the  gospel 
of  the  square  deal  for  everybody,  including  the  cor 
porations.  But  in  a  very  short  time  I  discovered 
that  my  own  people  were  not  keeping  faith  with 
me;  had  no  intention  of  keeping  it.  Later  on,  a 
number  of  corporation  officials  and  managers,  men 
who  had  formerly  made  corrupt  deals  with  the  rail 
road  company,  and  are  to  this  day  profiting  by 
them,  became  frightened.  Assuming  that  I  was  the 
chief  broker  for  the  railroad  company  in  the  pres 
ent  campaign,  these  men  wrote  me  letters  which 
were  in  the  highest  degree  incriminating." 

The  big  man  who  was  staring  into  the  heart  of 
the  fire  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"I  remember;  you  told  me  something  about  that 
before,  didn't  you?" 

"Yes,  and  we  needn't  go  into  the  details  again. 
I  meant  to  use  those  letters  as  a  club  to  hammer  a 
little  honesty  into  my  own  employers.  Up  to  that 
time  I  had  been  trying  to  believe  that  the  machine 
— your  machine — and  the  railroad  lawbreakers  were 
not  one  and  the  same  thing." 


IN  WHICH  PATRICIA  DRIVES  361 

"But  you  changed  your  mind  about  that?" 

"I  had  to,  after  I  found  out  that  you  had  cor 
rupted  one  of  my  clerks  and  had  sent  one  of  your 
thugs  to  dynamite  my  safe.  That  is  past  and  gone; 
but  you  can  see  where  it  left  me.  As  you  and 
everybody  in  the  State  know,  I  had  been  committing 
myself  publicly  everywhere,  doing  it  with  the  assur 
ance  that  when  it  came  to  the  pinch  I  could  bring 
Gantry  and  Kittredge  and  even  Mr.  McVickar  him 
self  to  terms — the  terms  of  honesty  and  fair  dealing. 
With  my  weapon  stolen,  I  was  left  helpless,  facing 
the  certainty  that  on  the  day  after  the  election  I 
should  be  pilloried  in  every  hole  and  corner  of  my 
native  State  as  the  most  shameless  liar  that  ever 
breathed.  Do  you  wonder  that  I  was  desperate?" 

"No,  son;  I  reckon  you  wouldn't  have  been  much 
of  a  Blount  if  you  hadn't  been." 

"I  was  desperate.  I  said  to  myself  that  I  would 
find  another  weapon,  even  if  I  should  have  to  take 
a  leaf  out  of  your  own  book,  dad,  to  do  it.  I  took 
the  leaf,  and  I  have  the  weapon.  You  drove  Gry- 
son  away,  but  you  made  one  small  miscalculation. 
You  didn't  believe  that  his  desire  for  revenge  would 
be  stronger  than  his  fear  of  the  gallows." 

Again  the  older  man  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"Yes,  son;  I  know.  He  came  back  twice:  once 
when  he  found  you  in  your  office  last  Wednesday 
night;  and  again  yesterday,  or  rather  last  evening, 
when  you  got  out  of  your  bed  and  went  to  help 
him  make  his  getaway  on  the  east-bound  Over 
land." 


362    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Evan  Blount  started  back,  and  his  exclamation 
was  of  pure  astoundment. 

"You  knew  all  this?"  he  gasped. 

"Oh,  yes;  I. reckon  there  isn't  much  happening 
that  such  a  double-dyed  old  villain  as  I  am  doesn't 
find  out,  Evan/'  was  the  sober  rejoinder. 

"But,  good  heavens!  if  you  know  so  much,  you 
must  know  what  Gryson  came  back  for,  and  what 
he  gave  me!" 

"Yes;  I  know  that,  too.  I  reckon  I  might  as 
well  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  while  I'm  at  it." 

"You  knew  it  last  night,  and  yet  you  didn't  send 
somebody  to  hold  me  up  and  take  the  papers  away 
from  me?" 

The  senator's  chuckle  rumbled  deep  in  his  mighty 
chest. 

"Maybe  I  was  counting  a  little  on  the  kinship, 
Evan,  boy.  Maybe  I  was  saying  to  myself:  'No, 
I  reckon  the  boy  won't  do  it,  after  all — not  when 
he  reads  what's  set  down  in  the  papers;  he  just 
naturally  couldn't  do  it.'  : 

"Oh,  my  Lord,  dad!"  was  the  choking  response. 
"Can't  you  see  that  you  are  killing  me  by  inches? 
Can't  you  see  that  I've  got  to  choose  between  being 
a  man  clear  through,  or  a  scoundrel  as  weak  and 
shifty  as  any  of  those  I  have  been  denouncing? 
My  God,  it's  terrible!" 

"I  reckon  you're  going  to  choose  straight,"  said 
the  older  man,  still  with  eyes  averted. 

"I  have  chosen,"  said  the  son  brokenly;  "or  per 
haps  it  would  be  truer  to  say  that  there  never  has 


IN   WHICH   PATRICIA   DRIVES  363 

been  any  choice  since  the  moment  when  I  set  my 
foot  in  the  path  which  has  led  me  thus  far  on  the 
way  to  hell.  I  can  despise  myself  utterly  for  the 
means  I  took  to  secure  the  evidence,  but  that  very 
lapse  makes  it  all  the  more  needful  that  I  should 
atone  as  I  can." 

David  Blount  rose  and  put  his  back  to  the  fire. 

"Son,  you  are  a  man  among  a  thousand — among 
ten  thousand,"  he  said  quietly.  "When  it  comes 
to  a  pure  question  of  good,  old-fashioned  right  and 
wrong,  you  can  buck  up  just  like  your  old  great- 
gran'pap,  the  judge,  did  when  he  had  to  sentence 
one  of  his  own  sons  for  killing  an  Indian.  You 
haven't  said  it  in  so  many  words,  so  I'll  say  it  for 
you:  you've  got  me,  and  maybe  some  others,  right 
where  you  can  shove  us  into  the  penitentiary. 
That's  about  what  you're  trying  to  tell  me,  isn't  it?" 

"For  God's  sake,  don't  put  it  that  way!"  Blount 
protested.  "I  gave  you  fair  warning  almost  at  the 
first.  I've  got  to  fight  for  the  right  as  I  see  it.  If 
I  don't,  I  shall  be  less  than  a  man — less  than  your 
son.  Can't  you  see  that  it  is  breaking  my  heart?" 

A  silence  electrically  surcharged  with  possibilities 
settled  down  upon  the  isolated  room,  with  the  still 
ness  broken  only  by  the  crackling  of  the  fire  and 
that  other  distant  tapping  as  of  tree-twigs  on  the 
roof.  At  the  end  of  the  pause  the  senator  took  a 
forward  step  and  put  a  hand  on  his  son's  shoulder. 

"I  haven't  one  word  to  say,  Evan,  boy,"  he  began 
slowly.  "As  you  told  me  that  first  day  out  here, 
son,  it's  your  job  to  hew  to  the  line  and  let  the  chips 


364    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

fall  where  they  may.  You  go  ahead  and  do  just 
what  seems  right  and  law-abiding  to  you.  I'd  rather 
go  to  jail  twice  over  than  have  you  do  any  different. 
Is  that  what  you're  wanting  me  to  say?" 

Blount  dropped  into  a  chair,  as  if  the  touch  on 
his  shoulder  had  crushed  him,  and  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands.  It  was  hard — harder  than  even  his 
own  prefigurings  had  forecast  it.  Fighting  against 
the  patent  facts,  he  had  been  cherishing  a  lingering 
hope  that  his  father  might  be  able  to  brush  away 
the  cruel  necessity  at  the  last  moment.  But  now 
the  hope  was  dead. 

It  was  a  long  minute  before  he  staggered  to  his 
feet  and  groped  his  way  to  the  door,  leaving  his 
father  standing  before  the  fire  and  once  more  puffing 
absently  at  the  long-stemmed  pipe.  When  old  Bar 
nabas  had  helped  him  into  his  coat  and  had  given 
him  his  hat,  he  found  Patricia  still  sitting  in  the  car, 
with  the  motor  purring  softly  under  the  hood. 

"Must  you  go  back?"  she  queried,  when  he  had 
descended  the  steps  to  climb  stiffly  into  the  seat 
beside  her. 

He  nodded. 

"Your  duty  is  clear?" 

1 1  Perfectly  clear — now. ' ' 

"And  the  consequences?"  she  asked. 

"I  can  only  guess,"  he  muttered.  "Ruin  and 
disgrace  for  all  of  us,  I  suppose.  Of  course,  you 
understand  that  I  have  resigned  from  the  railroad 
service  and  shall  stand  with  my  father  when — when 
the  thing  is  done." 


IN  WHICH  PATRICIA  DRIVES  365 

She  was  backing  the  little  roadster  into  the  cir 
cling  driveway  to  turn  for  the  start.  At  the  revers 
ing  moment  she  made  her  final  plea. 

"Don't  do  it,  Evan — don't  do  it  !  I  have  no  more 
than  a  woman's  reason  to  offer,  but  I  am  sure  you 
are  opening  the  door  to  a  lifelong  sorrow  for  your 
self  and — and — for  me!" 

It  was  the  last  two  words  that  steeled  him  sud 
denly.  Not  even  at  her  beseeching  would  he  turn 
aside  from  the  plain  path  of  the  oath-bound  obliga 
tion.  It  struck  him  like  a  blow  that  the  turning 
aside  would  make  him  forever  unworthy  of  her. 

"Take  me  back  to  the  city  as  quickly  as  you  can!" 
he  said.  "Or,  better  still,  stay  here  and  let  me  have 
the  car.  That  is  my  last  word." 

"You're  not  fit  to  drive  a  car!  "  she  snapped;  and 
for  further  answer  she  threw  the  speed  lever  into  the 
intermediate  gear  and  released  the  clutch.  Like  a 
projectile  hurled  from  a  catapult,  the  swift  little 
roadster  shot  away  down  the  cottonwood  avenue, 
and  with  a  jerk  of  the  lever  into  the  "high"  the 
second  race  against  time  was  begun. 

For  the  first  few  miles  Patricia's  passenger  had 
all  he  could  do  to  keep  his  seat.  On  its  upper  mesa 
windings  the  Quaretaro  road  follows  the  course  of 
the  stream  which  has  been  robbed  of  its  waters  for 
the  cultivated  lands,  and  though  the  roadway  was 
good  the  hazards  were  plentiful  when  taken  at  speed. 
More  than  once  Blount  caught  himself  in  the  act 
of  reaching  for  the  steering-wheel,  but  as  often  he 
desisted.  As  on  the  outward  race,  Patricia  was 


366    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

staring  straight  ahead,  and  giving  the  little  car 
every  throb  of  speed  there  was  in  its  machinery. 
None  the  less,  he  could  see  that  she  had  it  under 
perfect  control. 

What  finally  happened  came  with  the  suddenness 
of  the  thunder-clap  following  a  bolt  which  strikes 
near  at  hand.  They  were  on  the  down-grade  ap 
proach  to  the  mouth  of  Shonoho  Canyon,  and  they 
could  not  see  beyond  the  gentle  curve  to  the  left, 
where  the  smaller  gulch  found  its  intersection  with 
the  main  ravine.  When  they  were  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  curve  the  stretch  below  came  into 
view.  Blount  had  a  momentary  glimpse  of  some 
barrier — a  pine-tree,  as  it  proved  to  be — lying  across 
the  main  road.  Seeing  it,  he  realized  at  the  same 
instant  that  Patricia  was  neither  throttling  the  motor 
nor  applying  the  brakes.  After  that  he  had  barely 
time  to  snap  the  switch  and  to  throw  the  heavy 
wind-shield  down  before  the  devastating  crash  came. 


XXVIII 

THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES 

AFTER  his  son  had  left  him,  the  Honorable  Sen 
ator  Sage-Brush  remained  standing  before  the  li 
brary  fire  until  he  heard  the  machine-gun  exhausts 
of  the  small  roadster  distance-diminishing  down  the 
driveway  avenue.  Then  he  stepped  aside  and  pressed 
the  bell-push  ordinarily  used  to  summon  the  old 
negro  footman. 

In  answer  to  the  call  a  door  opened  beyond  the 
chimney- jamb,  and  immediately  the  gentle  twig- 
tapping  sounds  resolved  themselves  into  the  click- 
ings  of  a  pair  of  telegraph  relays  and  the  chatter  of 
a  typewriter.  A  good-looking  young  fellow,  with 
his  coat  off,  entered  the  library,  carefully  closing  the 
door  behind  him. 

"Want  to  send  something,  senator?"  he  asked, 
whipping  a  note-book  from  his  hip-pocket. 

"No,  not  just  this  minute.  Anything  new  com 
ing  over  the  wires?" 

"Nothing  startling.  Steuchfield  reports  from 
Ophir  that  we  swing  the  miners7  vote  almost  to  a 
man  unless  something  unforeseen  breaks  loose. 
Hetchy  gives  us  a  good  word  from  Twin  Buttes;  and 
Griggs,  up  in  the  Carnadines,  wires  from  Alkire  that 

367 


368    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

he  has  just  completed  an  auto  canvass  of  the  High 
Line  district.  The  ranchmen  up  that  way  have  had 
a  pretty  bad  scare.  There  was  a  threat  made  that 
the  price  of  water  was  going  to  be  raised.  But  they're 
all  right  now." 

The  boss  nodded  approvingly.  Then :  "  How  about 
those  microphone  notes?" 

"Crowell  is  writing  them  off,"  was  the  reply. 
"  He'll  have  them  in  half  an  hour  or  so." 

The  senator  drew  out  his  watch,  a  huge  thick- 
crystalled  time-piece  dating  back  to  the  range-riding 
period. 

"As  matters  have  turned  out,  I  shall  be  going  to 
the  city  before  long,"  he  said.  "If  the  notes  are  not 
ready  before  I  leave,  you  can  order  out  the  speed-car 
and  send  them  in  by  Gallagher  any  time  before  six 
o'clock.  Don't  slip  up  on  that,  Fred;  tell  Gallagher 
to  deliver  the  notes  to  me,  in  person,  at  the  Inter- 
Mountain.  What's  become  of  Professor  Aimers?" 

"He's  staying  over  at  Ha  worth's  ranch,  just  to 
be  near  the  fossil  bone-field.  They've  made  another 
plesio-something  find,  and  Haworth  telephones  that 
the  professor  couldn't  be  dragged  away  with  a  der 
rick  until  those  bones  are  safely  out  of  the  ground 
and  boxed  for  shipment." 

The  professor's  host  smiled  indulgently,  saying: 
"It's  just  as  well,  I  reckon.  The  professor's  about 
as  blind  as  a  bat  when  it  comes  to  seeing  anything 
this  side  of  a  million  years  ago,  but  if  he  were  here 
he  might  wonder  why  we've  set  up  a  telegraph-office 
— wonder,  and  talk  about  it." 


THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES  369 

The  young  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  was  turning  to 
go.  " I'll  hustle  Crowell  on  those  notes,"  he  promised: 
but  as  he  was  reaching  for  the  door-knob  the  sen 
ator  stopped  him. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,  Fred;  how  is  that  contrivance 
of  ours  at  the  mouth  of  Shonoho  working?" 

"It's  working  all  right.  Canby  is  on  watch  there 
now,  and  he  says  he  can  see  everything  that  passes 
on  both  roads." 

"  That's  good.  These  little  precautions  are  mighty 
necessary  in  a  close  fight.  Those  folks  over  at  Sho 
noho  Inn  ought  to  have  thought  of  this  outer-guard 
business  for  themselves,  but  it  seems  they  didn't. 
They'd  be  right  awkwardly  embarrassed  if  some  fel 
low  they  don't  want  to  see  should  slip  in  on  'em  with 
out  notice.  While  I  think  of  it,  don't  fail  to  keep  me 
posted  on  what  Canby  sees  after  I  go  back  to  town. 
He  thinks  he's  safe,  does  he?" 

"Perfectly.  Nobody  can  see  his  dugout  from  the 
road,  and  his  oil-heater  doesn't  make  any  smoke. 
That  scheme  of  laying  insulated  wires  on  the  ground 
works  like  a  charm.  You  could  walk  all  over  them 
without  noticing  them."  The  young  man  was  open 
ing  the  door  as  he  spoke,  and  he  broke  off  suddenly 
to  say:  "That's  his  call  ringing  now.  Would  you 
like  to  come  and  talk  to  him?" 

"No;  you  can  tell  me  what  he  says,  if  it's  worth 
telling." 

The  clerk  disappeared  into  the  room  of  the  tapping 
noises,  but  he  was  back  again  almost  immediately. 

" It  was  Canby,"  he  said  hurriedly.    "He  says  two 


370    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

men  on  horseback  have  just  dragged  a  good-sized 
pine-tree  down  the  Shonoho  road  and  are  placing 
it  across  the  county  road.  He  can't  see  the  men's 
faces  very  well,  but  he  thinks  the  bigger  of  the  two 
is  Jack  Barto." 

It  was  the  senator's  boast  that  he  had  never  lost 
a  tooth  or  had  one  filled,  and  his  smile  showed  the 
double  row,  strong  and  evenly  matched,  under  the 
drooping  grayish  mustaches. 

"That  boy  Canby  is  a  mighty  good  guesser,  Fred. 
I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  the  fellow  he  has  spotted 
is  Jack  Barto,  sure  enough.  If  you  didn't  know 
beforehand  what  a  good-natured,  meechin'  sort  of 
rooster  Jack  is,  you  might  think  he  was  fixing  to  play 
some  kind  of  a  hold-up  game  on  somebody." 

"That's  what  Canby  thinks,  and  he  asked  me  to 
hold  the  wire  open." 

The  big  boss  smiled  again.  "Then  don't  you 
reckon  you'd  better  go  and  hold  it?"  he  suggested 
mildly;  and  the  young  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  van 
ished  to  do  it. 

When  he  was  left  alone,  the  senator  went  to  the 
house  phone  connecting  the  library  with  the  re 
moter  suites.  A  touch  of  the  button  brought  an 
answering  word,  and  he  spoke  softly  into  the  trans 
mitter. 

"The  time  is  getting  right  ripe,  and  I  thought  you 
might  want  a  minute  or  so  to  put  on  your  things," 
he  said,  in  answer  to  the  low-toned  "Well?"  that 
came  over  the  house  wire.  Then  he  added:  "I  don't 
know  but  what  we  may  have  to  make  a  little  bluff 


THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES  371 

at  somebody  on  the  way  in.  When  you  order  the 
car  around,  suppose  you  tell  Rickert  to  put  l  Ten 
nessee7  and  Billy  Shack  in  the  tonneau,  with  a  couple 
of  shot-guns.  We  can  drop  'em  if  they  look  too 
warlike  and  conspicuous." 

He  was  hanging  the  ear-piece  on  its  hook  when  the 
shirt-sleeved  young  man  burst  in  again  excitedly. 

"  It  is  a  hold-up ! "  he  declared  breathlessly.  "  Miss 
Anners  and  Mr.  Evan  have  slammed  their  car  into 
the  tree,  and  Canby  says  the  two  horseback  men  are 
watching  them  from  the  dry  gulch  just  below  him!" 

"All  right,"  was  the  even- toned  reply.  "You  go 
and  tell  Canby  to  keep  his  shirt  on,  Fred;  and  don't 
forget  to  send  those  papers  in  by  Gallagher." 

While  the  senator  was  speaking,  the  door  opened 
and  the  old  negro  came  hobbling  in  with  a  driving- 
coat  and  the  broad-brimmed  planter's  hat  which 
made  the  Honorable  David  a  marked  man  through 
out  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Sage-Brush  State. 

"De  cyar's  at  de  do',  Marsteh  David,  and  Mistis 
say  she  plumb  ready  when  you  is,  yes-sah,"  stam 
mered  the  serving-man,  holding  the  coat  for  his 
master;  and  a  moment  later  the  senator  was  climb 
ing  to  his  place  behind  the  big  wheel  of  the  touring- 
car,  with  Mrs.  Honoria  for  his  seat-mate  on  the 
mechanician's  side,  and  the  chauffeur,  the  horse 
wrangler,  and  Billy  Shack  comfortably  filling  the 
tonneau. 

While  the  touring-car,  with  its  curiously  assorted 

complement  of  passengers,  was  leaving  Wartrace 

.Hall,  Evan  Blount,  having  assured  himself  that  Pa- 


372     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

tricia  was  not  hurt,  was  trying  to  estimate  the  ex 
tent  of  the  damage  done  to  the  little  red  roadster 
by  the  collision  with  the  tree.  The  inspection  was 
brief.  With  the  front  axle  bent  and  the  radiator 
crushed,  the  car  was  safely  out  of  commission. 

"We're  definitely  out  of  the  fight/'  he  reported 
shortly,  helping  his  companion  down  from  the  dri 
ving-seat. 

Patricia  was  still  trembling  and  pale. 

"You  mean  that  we  can't  go  on  to  the  city?"  she 
quavered. 

"Not  unless  we  walk;  and  of  course  that  is  out 
of  the  question." 

"Then  you — you  can't  keep  your  appointment 
with  Judge  Hemingway." 

Blount's  smile  was  scornful.  "I  imagine  it  was  no 
part  of  my  father's  plans  that  I  should  keep  my  ap 
pointment,"  he  commented  bitterly.  "He  took  it 
for  granted  that  I  would  drive  out  to  Wartrace  with 
you,  and  made  his  preparations  accordingly.  This 
tree  wasn't  here  half  an  hour  ago,  and  it  is  here  now." 

"I  can't  believe  it  of  him,"  she  denied,  and  her 
lip  quivered.  And  then  she  added:  "Just  think, 
Evan;  we  might  have  been  killed — both  of  us!" 

Blount's  teeth  came  together  with  a  little  clicking 
noise.  "Politics,  or  what  passes  for  politics  in  this 
God-forsaken  region,  seems  to  make  no  account  of 
such  a  small  thing  as  a  human  life  or  two,"  he  said. 
And  then:  "I  suppose  we  are  due  to  wait  until 
somebody  comes  along  to  pick  us  up.  It's  four 
miles  or  more  back  to  the  nearest  ranch  on  the  mesa." 


THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES  373 

"It  is  all  my  fault!"  lamented  the  young  woman. 
"I — I  might  have  stopped  the  car,  don't  you  think?" 

"I  wondered  a  little  that  you  didn't  at  least  try 
to  stop  it,"  he  permitted  himself  to  say;  and  at  this 
she  forgot  the  traditions,  sociological  or  other,  re 
verting  to  the  type  of  the  eternal  feminine. 

"Say  it  all,"  she  flashed  out.  "You  are  beginning 
to  wonder  if  I  didn't  do  it  purposely.  I  did  do  it 
purposely.  All  the  way  along  I  had  been  trying  to 
muster  up  courage  enough  to  smash  the  car  in  the 
ditch,  and  if  I  hadn't  been  such  a  coward  I  would 
have  done  it.  Now  hate  me,  if  you  want  to!" 

Blount  would  have  been  less  the  lover  than  he  was 
if  he  had  not  been  moved  to  something  much  warmer 
than  hatred. 

"Let  us  say  that  you  are  doing  your  level  best  to 
save  my  faith  in  human  nature,  Patricia,  girl,"  he 
said  soberly.  "Do  you  know  what  you  are?  You 
are  the  one  loyal  person  in  a  tricky  world.  I  am 
still  fair  enough  to  say  that  it  was  fine — splendid! 
And  I  only  wish  my  father  were  worthier  of  such 
superb  loyalty  and  affection." 

She  looked  at  him  curiously  for  a  moment.  Then 
her  mood  changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and 
she  laughed  and  said:  "Yes,  I  think  women  are  more 
loyal  than  men;  and  I  am  sure  they  are  vastly  more 
discerning  at  times.  Don't  you  think " 

The  interruption  was  the  appearance  of  two  horse 
men  pushing  their  animals  out  of  a  small  gorge  on 
the  right.  When  they  had  gained  the  main  road 
they  came  up,  ambling  easily,  and  Blount  instantly 


374    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

recognized  the  leader  of  the  pair.  It  was  Barto 
again. 

"Howdy?"  said  the  timber-looker,  riding  up  to 
hang  with  one  knee  over  the  saddle  while  he  grinned 
genially  at  the  two  castaways.  "Lost  out  ag'in, 
ain't  ye,  Mr.  Blount?  Couldn't  make  out,  nohow, 
to  run  yer  chug-wagon  over  that  there  pine-tree, 
could  ye?" 

"Did  you  put  the  tree  in  the  road?"  snapped 
Blount,  his  anger  rising  promptly,  now  that  there 
was  a  man  to  quarrel  with. 

"I  reckon  we  did;  and  it  was  one  Hades  of  a  job, 
too,"  was  the  cool  reply.  "Had  to  drag  the  dern 
thing  f  'r  more'n  half  a  mile  down  the  gulch  with  the 
hawss-ropes." 

Here  was  plenty  of  material  for  a  wrathful  explo 
sion,  but  Blount  controlled  himself. 

"By  whose  orders  did  you  do  it?"  he  demanded. 

"Th'  boss's." 

"Mr.  Hathaway?" 

"Not  on  yer  life;  it  was  the  big  boss  this  time." 

Blount's  quick  glance  aside  at  his  companion  was 
a  wordless  "I  told  you  so!"  and  then  to  Barto: 
"Well,  now  that  you  have  stopped  us,  what's  next?" 

The  outlaw  grinned  again  and  kicked  his  horse  a 
little  nearer. 

"I'm  a-holdin'  you  up  sure  enough  this  time,  Mr. 
Blount— jest  like  another  little  Billy  th'  Kid,"  he 
confided.  "You're  goin'  to  gimme  them  papers 
you've  got  in  your  pocket,  and  then  me  an'  Kinky 
we  rides  away  all  peaceful  and  leaves  you  and  the 


THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES  375 

lady  to  set  down  quiet  till  somebuddy  comes  along 
to  pick  you  up." 

Blount  put  his  hand  to  his  head.  His  wound  was 
throbbing  painfully  again,  and  the  pain  may  have 
been  partly  responsible  for  his  answer. 

"When  you  get  those  papers  you'll  take  them 
from  a  dead  man,  Barto.  Do  your  instructions  go 
that  far?" 

The  man  of  many  trades  swung  straight  in  his 
saddle  and  fell  into  the  attitude  of  one  listening. 
Then  the  good-natured  grin  became  a  menacing 
scowl. 

"Shuck  them  papers  out,  and  do  it  sudden!"  he 
commanded. 

"No,"  said  Blount  crisply. 

Instantly  the  timber-looker's  pistol  was  out. 

"Give  'em  up!"  he  shouted;  "shell  'em  out, 
quick,  'r  by  the  holy " 

The  interposition  broke  in  stormily.  Down  the 
grade  from  the  upper  mesa  level  came  a  touring- 
car,  with  a  big  man  at  the  wheel,  a  veiled  woman 
beside  him,  and  three  men  in  the  tonneau.  "Holy 
smoke!"  said  the  outlaw,  and  with  his  riding  mate 
was  slipping  away  up  the  Shonoho  road  when  the 
touring-car,  with  brakes  protesting,  came  to  a  stand 
at  the  tree  barrier.  Like  a  flash,  two  of  the  three 
men  in  the  tonneau  leaped  out,  and  a  charge  of 
buckshot  whistling  over  the  heads  of  the  two  ob 
structionists  halted  them.  Thereupon  the  Honorable 
David  gave  his  orders  tersely. 

"Tennessee,  you  go  up  yonder  and  argue  with 


376     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Jack  Barto  a  spell,"  he  directed.  "Tell  him  and  his 
partner  that  the  Wartrace  smoke-house  is  the  safest 
place  in  Quaretaro  County  for  a  couple  of  club- 
witted  bunglers  like  they  are,  and  then  you  see  to 
it  that  they  get  there.  You,  Billy,  help  Rickert  get 
a  tow-rope  hitch  on  that  road-car,  and  we'll  see  if 
we  can't  jerk  it  out  of  the  way."  After  which  he 
turned  to  his  son  as  casually  as  if  only  the  precon 
ceived  and  preconcerted  had  come  to  pass:  "Tried 
to  wreck  you,  did  they?  Mighty  near  made  a  job 
of  it,  too,  from  the  looks  of  Miss  Patty's  little  car. 
Not  hurt,  are  you?  That's  good.  Climb  in  here, 
both  of  you,  and  when  we  get  this  windfall  out  of 
the  road  we'll  go  on  to  town." 

Blount  put  Patricia  into  the  empty  tonneau 
while  Shack  and  the  chauffeur  were  making  the  tow- 
rope  hitch,  but  he  was  still  angry  enough  to  hesitate 
when  it  came  his  turn.  A  glance  at  his  watch  de 
cided  him.  It  was  still  only  half  past  four.  Had  his 
father  repented  so  far  as  to  override  the  obstacle 
which  he  himself  had  interposed?  Patricia  was 
holding  the  tonneau-door  open,  and  Blount  got  in 
and  took  his  seat  beside  her. 

A  small  engineering  feat,  made  possible  by  the 
power  plant  of  the  big  car  and  the  tow-rope,  soon 
cleared  the  way  of  the  wrecked  roadster  and  the 
tree.  Then  the  senator  gave  another  order. 

"You  and  Billy  stay  here  and  see  if  you  can't  get 
that  roadster  so  you  can  run  it  to  town  on  its  own 
power,"  he  said  to  the  chauffeur;  and  over  his 
shoulder  to  the  pair  behind  him:  "If  you'll  change 


THE  GOSSIPING  WIRES     .  377 

partners  back  there,  and  let  Honoria  ride  on  the 
cushions " 

Though  he  could  not  remotely  apprehend  his 
father's  reason  for  the  rearrangement,  Blount  got 
out,  helped  Mrs.  Honoria  down  and  up  again,  and 
then  climbed  into  the  seat  she  had  just  vacated. 
At  the  click  of  the  tonneau  door-latch  the  big  car 
rolled  on  down  the  grade,  and  for  a  good  half  of  the 
straightaway  fifteen  miles  to  the  city  the  younger 
man  held  his  peace  grimly.  Finally  he  turned  to 
his  father  and  said: 

"I'm  blaming  you  for  the  tree,  and  for  Barto's 
attempt  to  get  those  papers  away  from  me.  Am  I 
wrong?" 

The  Honorable  David  shook  his  head. 

"This  close  to  an  election  you're  mighty  near  safe 
in  blaming  anybody  and  everybody  in  sight,  son,"  he 
returned  gravely;  and  apart  from  this  small  break  in 
the  monotony,  the  second  half  of  the  fifteen  miles 
went  speechless. 

The  clock  in  the  Temple  Court  tower  was  pointing 
to  five  minutes  of  five  when  the  senator,  instead  of 
taking  the  direct  street  to  the  Inter-Mountain,  as 
his  son  expected  him  to,  turned  the  car  aside  into 
the  Capitol  grounds  and  brought  it  to  rest  before 
the  side  entrance  which  led  to  the  chambers  of  the 
Supreme  Court  justices. 

"You're  still  in  time,  Evan,  boy,"  he  intimated 
gently;  "and  I'm  only  going  to  ask  one  thing  of 
you.  When  you  get  through  with  Hemingway,  come 
around  to  the  hotel  and  show  your  grit  by  taking 


378    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

dinner  with  the  rest  of  us.  Are  you  man  enough  to 
do  that?" 

If  the  son  hesitated,  it  was  only  for  a  fraction  of  a 
second.  When  he  answered,  it  was  to  say:  "If  I 
were  going  up-stairs  to  put  a  noose  around  my  own 
neck,  it  would  be  simpler  and  easier  than  the  thing 
I've  got  to  do.  As  to  your  one  condition — dad,  I'll 
be  with  you  at  dinner,  and  at  all  other  times,  after 
this  thing  is  done.  I've  quit  the  railroad,  and  I 
did  it  so  that  I  might  be  free  to  be  your  son  and  your 
lawyer  when  the  smash  comes.  Can  I  say  more?" 

"You  don't  need  to  say  another  blessed  word, 
son,"  was  the  sober  rejoinder;  and  when  Evan 
Blount  got  out,  the  Honorable  David  drove  away 
without  a  backward  glance  for  the  young  man  who 
was  dragging  himself  up  the  granite  steps  of  the 
Capitol  entrance  like  a  condemned  criminal  going 
to  execution. 


xxrx 

AT  SHONOHO  INN 

EVAN  BLOUNT'S  interview  with  the  venerable 
chief  justice  was  not  at  all  what  he  had  imagined  it 
would  be.  To  begin  with,  he  found  it  blankly  im 
possible  to  take  the  attitude  he  had  meant  to  take 
— namely,  that  of  a  conscientious  member  of  the 
bar,  rigorously  ignoring  all  the  little  cross-currents 
of  human  sympathy  and  the  affections. 

Almost  at  once  he  found  himself  telling  his  story 
incident  by  incident  to  the  kindly  old  man  who  was 
figuring  rather  as  a  father  confessor  than  as  a  judge 
and  a  legal  superior.  When  it  was  done,  and  the 
chief  justice  had  gone  thoughtfully  over  the  mass  of 
evidence,  Blount  saw  no  thunder-cloud  of  righteous 
indignation  gathering  upon  the  judicial  brow.  Nor 
was  Judge  Hemingway's  comment  in  the  least  what 
he  had  expected  it  would  be. 

"I  can  not  commend  too  highly  your  prudence  and 
good  judgment  in  bringing  these  papers  to  me,  Mr. 
Blount,"  was  the  form  the  comment  took.  "Your 
position  was  a  difficult  one,  and  not  one  young  man 
in  a  hundred  would  have  been  judicious  enough  to 
choose  the  conservative  middle  path  you  have 
chosen.  The  fanatic  would  have  rushed  into  print, 

379 


380    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  the  vast  majority  would  have  weakly  compro 
mised  with  conscience.  It  is  a  source  of  the  deepest 
satisfaction  to  me,  as  your  father's  friend,  to  find 
that  you  have  done  neither." 

"As  my  father's  friend?"  echoed  Blount. 

"Yes,  just  that,  Mr.  Blount.  There  is  an  appre 
ciation  which  transcends  the  commonplace  things  of 
life,  and  I  don't  know  which  is  worthier  of  the  greater 
admiration,  your  courage  in  coming  to  me,  or  your 
father's  single-heartedness  in  urging  you  to  do  it 
after  he  had  learned  the  purport  of  these  papers. 
Yet  this  is  what  I  should  have  expected  of  David 
Blount  as  I  know  him.  Men  say  of  him  that  he  has 
sometimes  wielded  his  tremendous  political  power 
regardless  of  the  law  and  of  other  men's  rights. 
But  in  the  field  of  pure  ethics,  in  the  exercise  of  the 
high  and  holy  duty  which  is  laid  upon  the  man  who 
has  become  a  father,  I  should  look  to  find  your  father 
doing  precisely  what  he  has  done.  I  assure  you 
that  it  is  not  without  reason  that  many  of  his  fellow 
citizens  call  him  most  affectionately  the  'Honorable 
Senator  Sage-Brush.' r 

"But  the  consequences!"  gasped  the  unwilling  in 
former.  "  His  name  in  those  affidavits ! " 

The  chief  justice  was  nodding  slowly. 

"Without  doubt  a  great  crime  has  been  committed, 
and  a  still  greater  one  is  contemplated.  We  shall 
take  prompt  action  to  defeat  the  contemplated 
crime  at  the  polls  next  Tuesday,  rest  assured  of 
that.  But  at  the  same  time,  let  me  say  a  word  for 
your  comfort:  these  papers  came  to  you  from  the 


AT  SHONOHO  INN  381 

hands  of  a  criminal,  and  that  particular  criminal 
had — as  I  am  well  informed — every  reason  to  be  vin 
dictively  enraged  against  your  father.  I  am  sure 
you  are  too  good  a  lawyer  to  fail  to  see  the  point. 
If  this  man  Gryson,  in  '  getting  even/  as  he  expressed 
it  to  you,  has  added  perjury  to  his  other  crimes — 
But  we  need  not  follow  the  suggestion  any  further 
at  this  time.  Be  hopeful,  Mr.  Blount,  as  I  am. 
Leave  these  matters  with  me,  and  go  and  be  as  good 
a  son  as  he  deserves  to  my  old  friend  David.'7 

Evan  Blount  left  the  venerable  presence  in  the 
judges'  chambers  of  the  Capitol  with  a  heart  strangely 
mellowed,  and  with  a  feeling  of  relief  too  great  to 
be  measured.  At  last,  without  compromise,  and 
equally  without  the  slightest  concession  to  the  nat 
ural  human  passion  for  vindication,  the  momentous 
step  had  been  taken.  Whatever  might  come  of  it, 
there  would  be  no  daggerings  from  an  outraged  con 
science,  no  remorse  for  an  unworthy  passion  im 
pulsively  yielded  to.  Also,  with  the  rolling  of  the 
terrible  burden  to  other  and  entirely  competent  shoul 
ders  there  came  a  sense  of  freedom  that  was  almost 
jubilant;  and  under  the  promptings  of  this  new  light- 
heartedness  he  was  able  to  make  a  reasonably  cheer 
ful  fourth  at  the  cafe  dinner-table  a  little  later. 

Oddly  enough,  as  he  thought,  Patricia  was  also 
cheerful,  though  she  vanished  with  Mrs.  Honoria  to 
the  private  suite  shortly  after  the  adjournment  to 
the  mezzanine  lounge.  Past  this,  after  the  father 
and  son  had  smoked  their  cigars  in  man-like  silence 
for  a  time,  Mrs.  Honoria,  coated  and  hatted  as  if 


382    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

to  go  out,  came  back  to  sit  near  the  balustrade,  look 
ing  down  upon  the  kindling  lobby  activities.  Shortly 
after  her  coming  the  senator  rose  to  go.  Instantly 
his  wife  sprang  up  to  walk  with  him  to  the  head  of 
the  great  stair. 

"The  time  has  come?"  she  asked  quickly. 

"I  reckon  it  has,  little  woman." 

"I  wish  I  might  be  there  to  see,"  she  said  softly. 
And  then,  whipping  a  packet  of  papers  from  under 
her  street-coat:  "Take  these.  When  you  see  what 
they  are,  you'll  know  why  I  haven't  given  them  to 
you  before  this.  As  long  as  you  didn't  know  anything 
about  it,  you  could  tell  Evan  the  simple  truth — that 
you  didn't  have  them." 

The  Honorable  David  pocketed  the  papers  with 
out  looking  at  them. 

"I  suspected  you — or,  rather,  young  Collins — 
quite  a  little  spell  ago,"  he  said  with  imperturbable 
good  nature.  "I  couldn't  have  done  it  myself;  I 
reckon  no  right-minded  man  could  have  done  it, 
but- 

" — But  women  have  no  conscience,"  she  finished 
for  him.  "/  hadn't  in  this  instance.  There  was  too 
much  at  stake  with  a  firebrand  like  Evan  to  deal 
with.  Don't  be  too  good-natured,  David — to-night, 
I  mean.  You  know  that  is  your  failing  when  you 
have  a  man  down.  But  to-night  you  must  make 
the  man  pay  the  price.  That's  all,  I  think.  I'm 
going  back  to  Evan  now  to  see  if  I  can't  make  him 
talk  to  me.  That  is  the  one  thing  I  have  seldom 
been  able  to  do  thus  far." 


AT  SHONOHO  INN  383 

If  Blount  was  a  little  surprised  when  the  small 
plotter  came  back  to  take  the  chair  recently  vacated 
by  his  father,  he  was  generous  enough  not  to  show 
it.  The  huge  sense  of  relief  was  still  with  him,  and 
its  mellowing  influence  made  him  smile  leniently 
when  she  said:  "I  want  to  be  reasoned  with,  Evan. 
I  have  just  let  your  father  persuade  me  that  a  cer 
tain  thing  he  is  about  to  do  is  perfectly  safe,  when  I 
am  afraid  it  isn't." 

"Since  he  is  undertaking  to  do  it,  it's  safe  enough, 
you  may  be  sure,"  he  replied  at  random. 

"Then  you  know  what  it  is?" 

"Oh,  no;  he  didn't  tell  me  where  he  was  going. 
But  on  general  principles,  you  know,  I  think  he  can 
be  trusted  to  take  care  of  himself.  He  is  a  many- 
sided  man,  Mrs.  Blount.  You  are  his  wife,  but  I 
have  sometimes  found  myself  wondering  if,  after 
all,  you  know  him  as  he  really  is." 

"Perhaps  I  don't,"  she  agreed  readily  enough. 
"But  I  do  know  his  absolute  fearlessness,  at  least. 
That's  why  I'm  a  little  nervous  just  now." 

Blount  took  the  alarm  at  once,  as  she  hoped  he 
would. 

"You  mean  that  he  is  really  going  into  danger  of 
some  sort?"  he  demanded. 

She  nodded.  "  He  is  going  to  meet  a  man  who  is — 
well,  he  is  a  big  man  with  many  of  the  same  qual 
ities  that  your  father  has.  But  down  at  the  very 
bottom  of  him  there  is  a  quality  that  even  your 
father  doesn't  suspect.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  cor 
nered  rat,  Evan?" 


384    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Blount  had  got  upon  his  feet  and  was  buttoning 
his  coat. 

"I  don't  know  how  much  or  how  little  you  know 
about  what  has  taken  place  this  afternoon,  Mrs. 
Blount,"  he  broke  out  hastily,  "but  I  can  tell  you 
this  much:  I  am  my  father's  son  now,  whatever  I 
have  been  in  the  past,  and  if  he  is  in  danger,  my 
place  is  with  him.  Tell  me  where  he  has  gone." 

The  little  lady's  eyes  were  demurely  downcast. 
"I  shouldn't  dare  tell  you  that,  but — but  perhaps  I 
might  show  you.  I  didn't  promise  not  to — not  to 
follow  him,"  she  returned  with  exactly  the  proper 
shade  of  half-frightened  reluctance. 

"  Is  it  far?  "he  asked. 

"Y-yes;  we  should  have  to  drive." 

"Excuse  me  for  a  minute  or  two,"  he  said  abruptly, 
and,  making  a  bolt  for  the  elevator,  he  was  back  al 
most  within  the  limit  named  with  a  top-coat  for 
himself  and  a  driving- wrap  for  his  companion.  "I 
broke  into  your  suite  and  made  Patricia  give  me 
the  wrap,"  he  explained.  "If  it  isn't  what  you 
want,  I'll  try  again." 

"It  will  do  nicely,"  she  told  him;  and  together  they 
went  down  the  broad  marble  stair  to  the  ground-floor. 

"Do  we  take  a  cab?"  he  asked,  when  they  reached 
the  sidewalk. 

"No;  it's  only  a  short  walk  to  the  garage,  and  we 
can  take  the  touring-car." 

"I'm  entirely  in  your  hands,"  he  rejoined;  and 
then:  "Perhaps  you'd  better  take  my  arm.  We 
can  make  quicker  time  that  way." 


AT  SHONOHO  INN  385 

The  small  plotter's  eyes  were  dancing  when  she 
slipped  her  hand  under  his  arm.  In  a  career  which 
had  not  been  entirely  devoid  of  excitement,  Mrs. 
Honoria  had  rarely  found  men  difficult.  But  this 
particular  young  man  was  proving  himself  to  be  the 
easiest  among  many. 

At  the  garage  Blount  asked  for  the  family  touring- 
car,  more  than  half-expecting  to  be  told  that  his 
father  had  taken  it.  The  garage  man  nodded  and 
laughed.  "You  can  have  it,  but  you  came  within  an 
ace  of  losing  out,"  he  said.  "The  senator  was  just 
here,  and  he  was  going  to  take  it,  but  he  changed 
his  mind  when  I  told  him  the  big  roadster  was  in." 

Blount  made  no  comment,  and  when  the  car  was 
ready  he  asked  his  companion  where  she  would  ride. 

"In  front,  with  you,"  was  the  quick  reply;  and 
when  they  were  placed  she  gave  him  his  running 
orders.  "  Slip  out  of  the  city  by  the  quietest  streets 
you  can  find  and  take  the  Quaretaro  road,"  she  di 
rected,  and  he  obeyed  in  silence,  holding  the  speed 
down  until  they  had  left  the  capital  behind  them 
and  were  bowling  along  under  the  stars  on  the  fine 
boulevarded  county  road. 

"Do  we  take  it  easy  or  the  other  way?"  he  asked, 
speaking  for  the  first  time  since  they  had  left  the 
town  garage. 

"You  may  drive  as  fast  as  you  like  until  we  come 
to  the  hills,"  he  was  told;  and  with  this  permission 
Blount  let  the  motor  out  and  speedily  put  the  fifteen 
miles  of  the  straightaway  road  to  the  rear. 

"Is  it  War  trace?"  he  inquired,  when  the  touring- 


386    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

car  was  breasting  the  first  of  the  grades  in  the  gulch- 
threading  climb  to  the  second  mesa  level. 

"No.  When  you  come  to  the  pine-tree,  turn  to 
the  right  up  Shonoho  Canyon." 

"We  can't  get  anywhere  on  that  road,"  he  ob 
jected.  "It's  washed  out  and  posted.  I  tried  to  go 
up  there  the  other  day  when  I  had  Patricia  out  in 
the  little  car." 

"I  think  you  will  find  it  quite  passable  to-night," 
was  all  the  answer  he  got;  and  a  little  later,  when 
they  had  turned  out  of  the  main  road  and  were 
ascending  the  small  canyon,  the  prophecy  came 
true.  The  brush  barricade  had  been  thrown  aside, 
and  there  were  fresh  wheel  tracks  in  the  sand. 

At  sight  of  the  wheel  marks  the  senator's  wife 
spoke  again. 

"You  have  been  up  here  before?" 

"Yes,  once;  in  the  middle  of  the  summer." 

"There  is  a  small  hotel  at  the  head  of  the  road." 

"I  know;  but  it  is  closed." 

"It  has  been  reopened — please  throttle  the  motor 
so  it  won't  make  so  much  noise — the  hotel  is  occu 
pied  now,  as  I  say,  and  that  is  where  we  shall  find 
your  father.  Are  you  still  willing  to  do  as  I  tell 
you  to?" 

"In  all  things  reasonable." 

"As  if  I'd  ask  you  to  do  anything  unreasonable!" 
she  broke  out  half -petulantly.  "Listen;  there  is  a 
lawn  with  a  circular  driveway  in  front  of  the  hotel. 
Drive  to  the  outer  edge,  near  the  cliff,  and  stop  the 


car." 


AT  SHONOHO  INN  387 

Five  minutes  later  he  had  obeyed  his  instructions 
literally.  Through  the  groving  of  trees  on  the  lawn 
he  could  see  the  lights  in  the  lower  story  of  the  inn. 
At  the  flicking  of  the  motor-switch  a  man  with  a 
pair  of  lineman's  climbing  spurs  at  his  belt  rose  up 
out  of  the  shadows  and  touched  his  cap  to  the  lady, 
saying:  "The  boss  is  here;  he  has  just  gone  in." 

"I  know,"  was  the  low-toned  response.  And  then 
to  Evan:  "Help  me  out,  please." 

When  they  stood  together  beside  the  car  she 
spoke  again  to  the  lineman. 

als  it  all  right,  Jackson?  Can  you  do  what  I 
asked  you  to?" 

"We  can  try  it  a  whirl,"  said  the  man;  and  there 
upon  he  led  the  way  across  the  lawn,  around  to  the 
darkened  end  of  the  bungalow-built  resort  house, 
and  through  a  sheltering  pergola  to  a  side  door.  "I 
got  hold  of  the  key,  and  it's  open,"  he  signified, 
meaning  the  door.  "Can  you  find  your  way  in  the 
dark  on  the  inside?" 

"Perfectly,"  was  the  whispered  reply;  and  then 
the  lineman  guide  got  his  further  orders:  "Go  back 
to  the  car  and  see  that  nobody  interferes  with  it, 
Jackson."  Then,  when  the  man  had  disappeared  in 
the  tree  shadows,  the  little  lady  turned  short  upon 
Blount.  "I  am  going  to  take  you  where  you  can 
see  and  hear,  but  you  must  promise  me  not  to  in 
terfere  unless  it  becomes  perfectly  plain  that  your 
fatr  er  needs  you.  Is  it  a  bargain?  " 

"It  is — if  you'll  allow  me  to  be  the  judge  of  the 
need." 


388    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

She  laughed  softly.  "You  are  simply  incorrigible, 
and  I  should  think  there  would  be  times  when  Pa 
tricia  would  be  tempted  to  stick  pins  into  you,"  she 
mocked.  Then:  "Come  on;  we  are  wasting  time," 
and,  entering  the  house,  she  took  his  hand  and  led 
him  through  a  dark  passage,  up  a  stair,  through 
another  passage  into  a  long,  low-pitched  room,  bare 
and  empty  save  for  a  great  pyramid  of  dining-tables 
and  chairs  piled  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  lastly  through 
a  cautiously  opened  door  which  admitted  a  flood  of 
yellow  lamp-light  from  below. 

"The  musicians'  gallery,"  she  whispered.  "Go 
to  the  screen  and  look  down,  but  for  Heaven's  sake, 
don't  make  any  noise!" 

Blount  obeyed  mechanically.  The  orchestra  gal 
lery,  screened  on  three  sides  by  an  open  fretwork  of 
Moorish  design,  was  built  out  from  the  wall  of  the 
dining-room,  and  through  the  latticings  of  the  fret 
work  he  could  look  down  upon  the  oblong  lobby  of 
the  resort  hotel.  There  was  a  table-desk  with  lamps 
on  it  drawn  out  in  front  of  a  cheerful  wood-fire 
burning  in  a  great  stone  fireplace,  and  in  front  of 
the  fire,  standing  with  his  back  to  the  blaze,  Blount 
saw  his  father.  From  a  lighted  room  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  lobby  space  came  a  confused  clattering 
of  telegraph  instruments.  Blount  caught  a  glimpse 
of  shirt-sleeved  clerks  moving  about  in  the  room 
beyond,  and  then  a  door  opened  beneath  him  and 
the  vice-president  of  the  Transcontinental  Company 
strode  out  into  the  firelight  to  shake  hands  with  his 
visitor  and  to  say:  "I've  been  looking  for  you;  I 


AT  SHONOHO  INN  389 

thought  you'd  come  in  out  of  the  wet  before  it  was 
too  late,  David.  Sit  down  and  tell  me  how  much 
you're  going  to  bleed  us  for,  and  I'll  make  out  the 
check." 

With  a  cold  hand  gripping  at  his  heart,  Blount 
turned  away,  sick  and  revolted,  and  there  was  a 
curse  on  his  lips  for  the  cruelty  of  the  woman  who 
had  brought  him  to  be  a  witness  to  his  father's 
shame.  But  when  he  groped  for  the  door  of  egress 
and  found  it,  the  knob  refused  to  turn.  The  door 
was  locked  and  he  could  not  retreat. 


XXX 

THE  RECKONING 

EVAN  BLOUNT'S  first  impulse  when  he  found  his 
retreat  cut  off  by  the  locked  door  of  the  musicians' 
gallery  was  to  make  his  presence  known  instantly 
to  the  two  men  standing  before  the  fire  in  the  lobby 
below.  Shame,  vicarious  shame  for  the  father  who 
would  thus  find  himself  unmasked  before  his  son, 
was  all  that  made  him  hesitate;  and  in  the  pausing 
moment  he  heard  his  father's  reply  to  the  vice- 
president's  challenging  greeting. 

"The  same  old  song;  always  the  same  old  song 
with  you,  isn't  it,  Hardwick?"  the  senator  was  say 
ing  in  jocose  deprecation.  "What  money  can't 
buy,  isn't  worth  having;  that's  about  the  way  you 
fellows  always  stack  it  up."  Then,  with  sudden 
grimness:  "Sit  down,  Hardwick.  I've  come  to  say 
a  few  things  to  you  that  won't  listen  very  good,  but 
you've  got  to  take  your  medicine  this  time." 

"What's  that?"  demanded  the  vice-president, 
dropping  mechanically  into  his  desk-chair.  And  then : 
"It's  no  use,  David.  We've  beat  you  at  your  own 
game.  We're  going  to  roll  up  a  majority  next  Tues 
day  that  will  wipe  you  and  your  broken-down  ma 
chine  out  of  existence.  Don't  you  believe  it?" 

390 


THE  RECKONING  391 

"Not  yet — not  quite  yet,"  was  the  mild  rejoinder. 

"Well,  you'd  better  believe  it,  because  it's  the 
truth.  You  are  down  and  out.  I  had  you  beat, 
David,  that  night  last  summer  when  you  gave  me 
your  'de-fi'  and  I  came  back  by  taking  your  son 
away  from  you.  The  young  gentleman  you  were 
going  to  spring  on  us  for  your  next  attorney-general 
has  done  more  than  any  other  one  man  in  the  cam 
paign  to  help  our  lame  dog  over  the  stile." 

"Yes,"  said  the  big  man,  sunning  his  back  at  the 
fire,  "that  is  one  of  the  things  we're  going  to  flail 
out  right  here  and  now,  Hardwick;  about  the  boy 
and  what  he's  been  doing.  You  told  him  to  go  out 
and  preach  the  good,  clean  gospel  of  the  square  deal, 
didn't  you?" 

It  was  at  this  point. that  the  listener  in  the  musi 
cians'  gallery,  a  prey  to  tumultuous  emotions  which 
were  making  the  freshly  healing  wound  in  his  head 
throb  like  a  trip-hammer,  lost  all  of  his  compunc 
tions  and  drew  closer  to  the  fretwork  screen. 

"He  didn't  need  any  special  instructions,"  was 
the  vice-president's  rejoinder,  and  his  tone  chimed 
in  with  the  hard-bitted  smile.  "Now  that  it  is  all 
over,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  he  mapped  the 
thing  out  for  himself,  and  all  we  had  to  do  was  to 
sit  tight  and  give  him  plenty  of  rope.  Candidly, 
David,  I  don't  believe  I'm  hardened  enough  to  play 
the  game  as  it  ought  to  be  played  out  here  in  the 
sage-brush  hills.  The  young  fellow's  sincerity  came 
pretty  near  getting  away  with  me  when  I  saw  how 
ridiculously  in  earnest  he  was." 


392     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"Yet  you  let  him  go  on,  putting  himself  deeper 
and  deeper  in  the  hole  every  time  he  stood  up  before 
an  audience,  and  you  never  said  a  word — never  gave 
him  a  hint  that  you  were  not  going  to  back  him  up 
in  everything  he  was  saying?" 

This  time  the  hard-bitted  smile  broke  into  a 
laugh. 

"Let's  get  down  to  business,  David.  You  wouldn't 
expect  us  to  throw  the  game  away  when  somebody 
was  trying  his  best  to  put  the  winning  card  into  our 
hands.  We  needn't  dig  back  into  the  campaign  for 
something  to  jangle  over,  you  and  I.  We  can  come 
right  down  to  the  present  moment.  You're  cornered, 
but  I  don't  deny  that  you've  still  got  a  few  votes  to 
dispose  of.  How  much  do  you  want  for  them?" 

Blount  saw  his  father  take  a  step  forward,  and 
for  a  flitting  instant  he  thought  there  would  be  vio 
lence.  But  apparently  nothing  was  farther  from  the 
senator's  intention. 

"I'm  not  selling  to-night,  Hardwick;  I'm  buying," 
he  said,  with  the  good-natured  smile  wrinkling  at 
the  corners  of  his  eyes.  "I  want  to  know  how  much 
you'll  take  to  clean  up  right  where  you  are  and 
make  my  boy's  word  good  to  the  people  of  this 
State."  ' 

Mr.  McVickar  turned  to  his  table-desk  and  took 
up  a  sheaf  of  telegrams. 

"I'm  a  pretty  busy  man  this  evening,  David;  and 
if  you  haven't  anything  better  than  that  to  offer— 

"You've  got  a  lot  of  crooked  deals  out — special 
rates  and  rebates  and  such  things;  the  boy  believed 


THE  RECKONING  393 

you  were  going  to  call  them  all  off  and  be  good, 
Hardwick." 

The  vice-president  laid  the  telegrams  aside  and 
turned  back  again  with  the  air  of  a  man  determined 
to  sweep  away  all  the  obstructions  at  one  shrewd 
push. 

"You're  wasting  your  time  and  mine;  let's  get 
down  to  business,"  he  snapped.  "Some  little  time 
ago  your  son  began  to  urge  this  same  l  reform  meas 
ure/  as  he  termed  it.  I  believe  he  even  went  so 
far  as  to  threaten  Gantry  and  Kittredge  with  the 
publication  of  certain  private  letters  from  our  pa 
trons,  letters  written  to  him  in  his  capacity  of  field 
campaigner  for  our  company.  I  don't  suppose  he 
really  meant  to  do  any  such  disloyal  thing  as  that, 
but- 

"But  to  make  sure  ne  wouldn't,  you  had  one  of 
your  hired  shadow-men  blow  up  his  safe  and  steal 
the  letters,"  put  in  the  senator  mildly.  "That  was 
prudent,  Hardwick.  I  was  a  little  scared  up  myself 
for  fear  Evan  might  get  real  good  and  mad,  and  let 
the  cat  out  of  the  bag;  I  was,  for  a  fact." 

"Without  admitting  the  safe-blowing,  I  may  say 
that  the  letters  were  destroyed,  and  our  friends  were 
advised  to  be  a  little  more  conservative  in  their  cor 
respondence.  That  settles  the  l reform  measure'  in 
cident  and  brings  us  down  to  the  present  argument. 
If  you  are  not  here  to  get  in  line  with  us,  what  did 
you  c.ome  for?" 

"I  came  to  give  you  one  more  chance  to  be  decent, 
Hardwick ;  just — one — more — last — chance. " 


394    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

"David,  there  are  times  when  you  make  me  tired, 
and  this  is  one  of  them.  For  years  you've  held  us 
up  and  dictated  to  us;  but  this  time  we've  got  you 
by  the  neck.  Did  you  ever  happen  to  hear  of  a  fel 
low  named  Thomas  Gryson?" 

"Oh,  yes;  I've  heard  of  him.  I  believe  he  has 
been  on  your  pay-rolls  for  a  while — notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  he  is  an  escaped  criminal,"  was  the 
shrewd  counter-thrust. 

"He's  a  scoundrel;  we'll  admit  that.  Just  the 
same,  your  son  hired  him  to  go  out  and  get  evidence 
in  a  certain  matter  of  alleged  crookedness  in  the 
registration  lists.  He  got  it,  and  delivered  the  papers 
to  your  son  last  night.  Some  of  those  affidavits  in 
criminate  you,  David.  If  we  wanted  to  use  them, 
we  could  send  you  to  the  penitentiary,  right  here  in 
your  own  State." 

The  senator  drew  up  a  mock-Sheraton  arm-chair 
and  lowered  his  huge  frame  gently  into  it. 

"In  order  to  use  those  papers  against  me  you'd 
first  have  to  get  hold  of  them,  wouldn't  you,  Hard- 
wick?"  he  asked. 

"We  have  them,"  was  the  terse  assertion. 

The  Honorable  David's  chuckle  rumbled  deep  in 
his  capacious  chest. 

"Bar to  phoned  you  an  hour  or  so  ago  that  he 
had  'em,  but,  owing  to  circumstances  over  which  he 
had  no  control,  he  couldn't  deliver  'em  to  you  until 
to-morrow  morning.  Isn't  that  about  the  way  it 
shapes  up?" 

The  vice-president's  frown  marked  an  added  de- 


THE  RECKONING  395 

gree  of  irritation.  "So  you  have  a  cut-in  on  my 
telephone  wire,  have  you?"  he  rasped 

The  senator  leaned  forward  and  laid  a  forefinger 
on  the  vice-presidential  knee. 

"Listen,  Hardwick,"  he  said.  "I  dictated  that 
phone  message  to  you,  and  Barto  repeated  it  word 
for  word  because  he  had  to — I  reckon  maybe  it  was 
because  one  of  my  men  was  holding  a  gun  to  his 
other  ear  while  he  talked  to  you.  The  little  hold-up 
that  you  planned  this  afternoon  didn't  come  off. 
Barto  lost  out  bad,  and  when  we  get  around  to 
giving  him  the  third  degree,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
he'd  tell  a  whole  lot  of  things  that  you  wouldn't 
want  to  see  printed  in  the  newspapers." 

Mr.  McVickar  sprang  out  of  his  chair  with  an 
agility  surprising  in  so  heavy  a  man,  crossed  to  the 
open  door  of  the  room  where  his  clerical  force  was 
at  work,  and  slammed  it  shut.  When  he  returned, 
he  was  no  longer  the  confident  tyrant  of  foregone 
conclusions. 

"Where  are  those  papers  now,  Blount?"  he  in 
quired. 

"They  are  in  the  hands  of  Chief  Justice  Heming 
way,  for  investigation  and  such  action  as  he  and  his 
colleagues  on  the  Supreme  Court  bench  see  fit  to 
take." 

"  Good  God !  Your  son  did  that,  knowing  that  you 
are  as  deep  in  the  mud  as  we  are  in  the  mire?" 

"I  reckon  he  did,  so.  That  boy  is  all  wool  and  a 
yard  wide.  He  thought  he  was  putting  me  in  the 
hole,  too,  along  with  Kittredge  and  your  railroad 


396    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

crooks,  and  it  came  mighty  near  tearing  him  in  two. 
But  he  did  it.  You  haven't  been  more  than  half-ap 
preciating  that  boy,  Hardwick." 

"'He  thought/  you  say;  isn't  it  the  fact  that  you 
are  in  the  hole,  David?" 

The  senator  reached  over,  took  one  of  the  gigantic 
McVickar  cigars  from  the  open  box  on  the  desk,  and 
calmly  lighted  it. 

"You're  a  pretty  hard  man  to  convince,  Hard- 
wick,"  he  said  slowly,  when  the  big  cigar  was  filling 
the  air  of  the  lobby  with  its  fragrance.  "Away  along 
back  at  the  beginning  of  this  fight  I  told  you  what 
I  was  aiming  to  do,  and  why.  You  wouldn't  believe 
it  then,  and  you  don't  want  to  believe  it  now;  but 
that's  because  you  don't  happen  to  have  a  son  of 
your  own.  When  that  boy  of  mine  wired  me  that 
he  was  coming  out  here  to  get  into  the  harness,  I 
began  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  record  and  look 
back  a  little.  It  was  a  mighty  dirty  record,  Mc 
Vickar.  I  don't  know  that  I'm  any  better  man 
now  than  I  was  in  the  days  when  we  made  that 
record — you  and  I — but  when  I  looked  it  over,  it 
struck  me  all  in  a  heap  that  I'd  have  to  get  out  the 
bucket  and  scrubbing-brush  if  I  didn't  want  to  make 
a  clean-hearted,  clean-minded  boy  plumb  ashamed 
of  his  old  daddy." 

"But,  say — you  haven't  quit  your  scheming  for  a 
single  minute,  Blount!"  retorted  the  railroad  tyrant. 
"You  are  just  as  much  the  boss  of  the  machine  to 
day  as  you've  ever  been!" 

"I  reckon  that's  so,  too,"  was  the  measured  re- 


THE  RECKONING  397 

ply.  "But  there's  just  this  one  little  difference, 
Hardwick:  a  machine,  in  a  factory  or  in  politics, 
is  a  mighty  necessary  thing,  and  we  wouldn't  get 
very  far  nowadays  without  it.  Here  in  America 
we're  just  coming  to  learn  that  machine  politics— 
which  is  sometimes  only  another  name  for  intelli 
gent  organization — needn't  be  bad  politics  unless  we 
make  'em  bad.  To  put  it  another  way,  the  machine 
will  grind  corn  or  clean  up  the  streets  and  alleys 
just  as  easily  as  it  will  grind  up  men  and  principles." 

The  vice-president  made  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"Come  to  the  point,"  he  urged.  "Do  you  mean 
to  tell  me  that  you  can  face  an  investigation  by  the 
Supreme  Court?" 

"For  this  one  time,  Hardwick,  I  can.  For  this 
one  time  in  the  history  of  the  Sage-Brush  State,  the 
slate — the  machine  slate — is  as  clean  as  the  back  of 
your  hand.  When  the  court  comes  to  investigate, 
it  will  find  that  every  crooked  deal  in  this  campaign 
has  had  a  railroad  man  or  a  corporation  man  at  the 
back  of  it.  Let  me  tell  you  what's  due  to  happen. 
Chief  Justice  Hemingway  had  luncheon  with  me  to 
day,  and  he  came  early  enough  to  give  me  a  quiet 
hour  before  we  went  to  table  with  the  ladies.  There 
is  going  to  be  an  investigation,  and  some  sharp, 
shrewd  young  lawyer  is  going  to  be  appointed  by 
the  court  to  take  evidence.  When  this  young  man 
gets  to  work,  every  wheel  in  the  machine  is  going 
to  roll  his  way.  Every  bribe  you've  offered  and 
paid,  every  false  name  you've  put  on  the  registra 
tion  lists,  every  deal  you've  made  with  men  like 


398    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Pete  Hathaway  and  McDarragh,  has  had  its  wit 
nesses,  and  by  the  gods,  Hardwick,  they'll  testify — 
every  man  of  them!" 

Again  the  vice-president  sprang  from  his  chair, 
but  this  time  it  was  to  walk  the  floor  with  his  head 
bowed  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  The  listener 
in  the  musicians'  gallery  found  a  seat  and  sat  down  to 
let  the  intoxicating,  overwhelming  joy  of  it  all  have 
its  will  of  him.  In  the  fulness  of  time  the  tramping 
magnate  who  had  been  so  crushingly  out-generalled 
in  his  own  chosen  field  came  to  stand  before  the  big 
man,  who  was  still  quietly  smoking  in  the  sham- 
Sheraton  arm-chair. 

"You  spoke  of  the  appointment  of  a  special  prose 
cuting  attorney,  David,"  he  said  in  a  harsh  mono 
tone.  "Who  will  it  be?" 

"You've  guessed  it  already,  I  reckon.  It'll  be 
the  boy,  Hardwick.  Hemingway  will  appoint  him 
if  he  is  willing  to  serve." 

"He's  taken  our  retainer!"  snapped  the  vice- 
president. 

"  Not  much,  he  hasn't!  you  hired  him  for  wages, 
and  if  he  wants  to  resign — he  has  resigned,  by  the  way 
— and  take  another  job,  I  reckon  he  can  do  it  with 
out  breaking  any  of  the  Ten  Commandments." 

"We  can't  stand  for  that — you  know  we  can't." 

"No;  I  don't  think  you  can — not  as  a  corpora 
tion.  Besides  the  flock  of  witnesses  that  we  can 
drum  up,  he'll  have  those  letters  that  we  were  talk 
ing  about  a  while  back.  You  missed  fire  on  that,  too, 
Hardwick.  What  your  man  dynamited  out  of  Evan's 


THE  RECKONING  399 

office  safe,  and  what  you  destroyed,  were  only  clever 
copies.  The  real  letters  were  stolen  by  the  boy's 
friends,  and  little  as  you  may  believe  it,  the  object  of 
that  theft  was  to  give  you  this  last  chance.  The  boy 
was  mighty  hot  under  the  collar,  and  we  couldn't  be 
sure  that  he  wouldn't  start  the  fireworks  before  the 
band  was  ready  to  play.  He  would  have  started 
them,  too,  if  his  match  hadn't  been  taken  away  from 
him." 

Mr.  McVickar  walked  around  the  other  end  of  the 
table-desk  and  sat  down  heavily. 

"You've  spoken  twice  of  a  'last  chance  '  David," 
he  said  grittingly.  "What  is  it?" 

"It's  the  chance  I  gave  you  in  the  beginning. 
First,  let  me  tell  you  what  I  reckon  you're  already 
admitting.  You're  whipped,  Hardwick;  your  slate's 
broken,  and  your  man  Reynolds  hasn't  a  ghost  of  a 
show — he  nor  any  of  the  others  on  your  string.  You 
haven't  made  a  move  that  we  haven't  caught  onto 
just  about  as  soon  as  you  put  your  fingers  on  the 
piece  you  meant  to  move.  For  instance,  that  little 
box  up  there  in  the  beaming  just  over  your  head — 
the  one  that  looks  as  if  it  were  a  part  of  the  house 
electric  installation — is  a  microphone,  and  one  of 
your  own  men  helped  to  put  it  up.  We've  got 
copies  of  every  letter  and  telegram  you've  dictated 
since  you  had  this  desk  dragged  out  here  a  week  ago 
Saturday." 

"I'm  taking  all  that  for  granted,"  was  the  curt 
admission. 

"Then  we'll  come  down  to  the  nib  of  the  thing 


400    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  put  you  out  of  your  misery.  You've  got  two 
things  to  do — just  two,  Hardwick.  One  of  'em  is 
to  clean  house  and  make  a  good  job  of  it,  just  like 
you  let  Evan  believe  you  were  going  to  do  when  you 
sent  him  out  to  tell  the  people  of  this  State  a  lot  of 
things  that  you  didn't  mean  to  have  come  true;  cut 
out  all  the  deals,  all  the  private  tariffs,  all  the  lit 
tle  preferential  and  palm-warmings.  When  you've 
done  that,  you'll  find  that  the  other  thing  will 
mighty  nearly  do  itself." 

"Name  it,"  rasped  the  magnate. 

"It's  just  merely  to  take  your  railroad  out  of 
politics  in  this  State,  and  keep  it  out.  We've  had 
enough  of  you,  McVickar,  and  more  than  enough. 
Is  it  a  bargain?" 

"It's  a  damned  one-sided  bargain  thus  far,  Blount. 
What  do  we  get  for  all  this?" 

Again  the  senator  chuckled  genially.  "You  may 
not  believe  it,  but  we're  going  to  let  you  down  easy. 
You  do  these  two  things  that  I've  mentioned,  and 
get  rid  of  Kittredge  and  a  few  others  that  have  been 
caught  red-handed,  and  the  Supreme  Court  investi 
gation  won't  touch  your  railroad  as  a  corporation 
— in  other  words,  it'll  go  after  individuals.  But 
you've  got  to  play  fair,  you  know — and  bring  forth 
fruits  meet  for  repentance,  before  the  fact.  How 
does  that  strike  you?" 

Again  the  vice-president  got  up  to  walk  the  floor, 
but  this  time  the  deliberative  interval  was  shorter. 

"What  is  the  political  programme,  as  you  have  it 
figured  out,  David?"  he  asked  presently. 


THE  RECKONING  401 

"It'll  be  a  landslide  for  us,  as  I  have  told  you. 
Gordon  will  go  in  by  the  biggest  majority  that  has 
ever  been  rolled  up  in  this  State.  Dortscher  will 
succeed  himself  as  attorney-general;  and  by  and  by, 
after  things  have  quieted  down,  he  will  resign.  That 
will  give  Gordon  the  appointment  of  his  successor, 
and  I'm  thinking  it  might  be  a  pretty  good  thing 
for  you,  as  well  as  for  the  people  of  the  State,  if 
Alec  should  happen  to  pick  out  a  bright  young  fel 
low  who  knows  your  side  of  the  question  as  well  as 
the  people's,  and  who  is  square  enough  to  give  you 
a  fair  show  when  it  comes  to  framing  up  any  new 
railroad  legislation." 

"That  will  be  your  son,  I  suppose?" 

"If  he'll  take  it,"  was  the  imperturbable  rejoinder. 

For  the  third  time  the  vice-president,  dying  hard, 
as  befitted  him,  deliberated  thoughtfully.  At  the 
end  of  the  thoughtful  interval  he  took  a  cigar  from 
the  open  box  and  clamped  it  between  his  teeth. 

"We  trade,"  he  said  shortly.  And  then:  "How 
will  you  take  it — in  stock  or  bonds?" 

The  Honorable  David  rose  slowly  and  snapped 
the  cigar  ash  into  the  fire. 

"I'm  right  sorry,  Hardwick,  but  this  is  one  time 
when  I  reckon  we'll  have  to  have  what  you  might 
call  the  spot  cash.  Promises  don't  go.  You're  too 
good  a  fighter  to  be  allowed  to  get  up  merely  be 
cause  you've  hollered  ' enough.'  Come  on  into  your 
telegraph-shop  and  let  me  hear  you  dictate  that 
string  of  ' come-off'  orders.  Then  we'll  drive  to 
town  in  my  road-car,  and  you  can  tip  off  Kittredge 


402     THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

and  a  few  of  the  other  prominent  victims  by  word  of 
mouth,  as  you'll  most  likely  want  to." 

For  a  full  minute  after  the  two  had  left  the  lobby 
together  Evan  Blount  sat  motionless  in  the  screened 
orchestra  gallery.  Then  he  got  up  and  groped  once 
more  for  the  door-knob.  It  yielded  at  his  touch,  and 
in  the  semi-darkness  beyond  the  opening  he  saw  his 
father's  wife  with  her  arms  upstretched  to  him. 

"Oh,  Evan,  dear — am  I  forgiven?"  she  asked 
softly. 

"Little  mother!"  he  said,  and  then  he  took  her 
face  between  his  hands  and  kissed  her. 


When  the  Honorable  David  Blount  reached  the 
city  an  hour  or  more  later,  and  had  dropped  his  pas 
senger  at  the  Railway  Club,  he  found  his  son  wait 
ing  for  him  in  the  otherwise  deserted  sitting-room 
of  the  Inter-Mountain  private  suite. 

"I  couldn't  sleep  without  telling  you  first,  dad," 
the  waiting  one  broke  out.  "I've  been  eavesdrop 
ping;  I  was  a  listener,  unwilling  at  first,  but  not 
afterward,  to  everything  that  was  said  an  hour  or 
so  ago  in  the  lobby  of  the  little  hotel  at  the  head  of 
Shonoho.  Do  I  need  to  tell  you  in  so  many  words 
how  deep  the  plough  has  gone?" 

"I  reckon  not,"  was  the  gentle  reply.  "Neither 
do  you  need  to  tell  me  how  you  came  to  be  out  at 
Shonoho  when  I  thought  I'd  left  you  tied  hand  and 
foot  right  here  in  the  hotel."  Then,  with  the  quiz 
zical  smile  wrinkling  at  the  corners  of  the  grave 


THE  RECKONING  403 

eyes:  "How  does  the  political  wrestle  strike  you  by 
this  time,  son?" 

"It  strikes  me  that  I  haven't  been  in  it;  not  even 
in  the  outer  edges  of  it.  Isn't  that  about  the  size 
of  it?" 

"Oh,  no;  you've  been  doing  good  work,  mighty 
good  work.  You've  helped  out  in  the  only  way 
that  help  could  come  in  this  campaign;  you've 
stirred  up  a  good,  healthy  public  sentiment  in  favor 
of  a  square  deal  for  everybody.  McVickar  was  fix 
ing  to  tangle  it  all  up — get  the  people  down  on  him 
until  they'd  simply  legislate  the  life  out  of  his  rail 
road.  But  he  couldn't  see  that." 

"He  sees  it  now — the  ' machine'  has  made  him 
see  it." 

"Yes.  You  didn't  know  that  a  machine  could  be 
put  to  any  really  righteous  use,  did  you,  boy?  But 
in  this  campaign  it  has  gone  in  to  knock  out  the 
crookedness,  big  and  little.  Listen,  son;  you  heard 
what  I  told  McVickar.  After  you'd  sent  me  that 
wire  from  Boston  last  summer,  saying  you'd  come, 
I  lay  awake  nights  projecting  how  I'd  put  you  in 
training  for  a  spell,  and  then  help  you  into  the  sad 
dle  and  make  you  the  boss  of  the  round-up,  the  same 
as  I'd  been.  Then  it  came  over  me,  all  of  a  sudden, 
that  I'd  been  as  crooked  as  a  dog's  hind  leg — that 
we'd  all  been  crooked.  Not  that  I've  ever  taken  a 
dollar  for  my  personal  pocket,  for  I  haven't;  but  I've 
bought  and  sold  and  dickered  and  schemed  with 
the  best  of  'em,  and  the  worst  of  'em.  On  top  of 
that,  I  began  to  ask  myself  how  I'd  like  it  to  see 


404    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

you  wallowing  in  the  same  old  mud-hole,  and — well, 
Evan,  boy,  you  may  have  a  son  of  your  own  some 
day,  and  then  you'll  know.  I  let  things  rock  along 
until  you  came;  until  that  first  day  at  Wartrace 
when  you  ripped  out  at  me  about  hewing  to  the 
line.  Right  then  and  there  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  I'd  put  the  whole  power  of  the  'machine,'  as 
you  call  it,  into  one  campaign  for  a  clean  election 
and  a  square  deal." 

"Oh,  good  Lord!"  ejaculated  the  son,  "and  I've 
been  fighting  you  and  your  organization  at  every 
turn!" 

"Oh,  no,  you  haven't,"  was  the  quick  rejoinder. 
"You've  been  fighting  graft  and  crookedness,  and 
that's  what  you  thought  you  were  hired  to  do.  As 
you  know  now,  McVickar  wasn't  playing  quite  fair 
with  you.  Just  the  same,  you've  been  in  the  hands 
of  your  friends,  right  from  the  start.  It's  the  or 
ganization  that's  been  giving  you  all  these  chances 
to  preach  the  gospel  of  the  square  deal;  it  was  a 
shrewd  little  captain-general  of  the  organization 
who  pushed  Hathaway  up  against  you  to  let  you 
know  that  the  railroad  people  were  running  around 
in  the  same  old  circles — hollering  for  justice,  and 
doing  everything  under  the  sun  to  defeat  the  ends 
of  justice — muddying  the  spring  because,  they  say, 
they  don't  know  what  else  to  do.  And,  by  the  way, 
it  was  that  same  little  captain-general  who  put  you 
up  against  the  real  thing  to-night,  without  telling 
me  or  anybody  else  what  she  was  going  to  do." 

The  younger  man  left  his  chair  to  go  to  one  of  the 


THE  RECKONING  405 

windows  where  he  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  look 
ing  down  upon  the  street-lights.  When  he  turned, 
it  was  to  say:  "I'm  with  you,  dad,  heart  and  soul. 
But  you  won't  mind  my  saying  that  I'm  still  a  little 
bit  afraid  that  you  and  your  kind  are  a  menace  to 
civilization  and  a  free  government.  You'll  let  me 
hang  on  to  that  much  of  my  prejudice,  won't  you?" 

"Sure!  Hang  on  to  anything  you  like,  son,  and 
say  anything  you  like.  Or,  rather,  let  me  say  some 
thing  first.  How  about  this  ' career'  business  of 
Patricia's?  Have  you  fixed  that  up  yet?" 

Blount  shook  his  head.  "She's  going  home  with 
her  father  next  week,"  he  said.  And  then:  "Do 
you  know  what  she  did  to-day,  dad?  She  ran  the 
little  red  car  into  that  pine-tree  intentionally — so 
I  couldn't  get  back  here  in  time  to  give  Judge  Hem 
ingway  those  affidavits,  which  we  both  supposed 
would  incriminate  you." 

"Well,  God  bless  her  loyal  little  soul!"  exclaimed 
the  Honorable  David,  and  the  grave  eyes  were  sus 
piciously  bright.  "I  hadn't  told  her  a  word  of  what 
I  was  trying  to  do;  but,  Lord  love  you,  Evan,  she 
knew:  you  trust  a  good  woman  for  knowing,  every 
time,  son.  And  now  one  more  thing:  Have  you 
come  to  know  Honoria  any  better  in  these  last  few 
days?" 

"Yes;  much  better,  within  the  last  few  hours, 
dad." 

"That's  good;  that  does  my  old  heart  a  heap  of 
good,  son!  Now  then,  you  go  straight  off  to  bed 
and  sleep  up  some.  You've  had  a  mighty  hard  day 


406    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

for  a  sick  man.  Tomorrow  morning  we'll  drive  out 
to  Wartrace  and  get  ready  to  touch  off  the  fireworks 
when  the  returns  trickle  in  on  Tuesday.  I  tell  you, 
boy,  Tuesday's  election  is  going  to  be  a  regular  old- 
fashioned,  heave-'em-up  and  keep-'em-a-going  land 
slide  !  Good-night,  and  good  dreams — if  that  cracked 
head  doesn't  go  and  roil  'em  all  up  for  you." 


XXXI 

A  LA  BOXXE  EEURE 

BY  some  law  of  contraries,  whose  workings  not 
even  the  politically  profound  can  fathom,  the  elec 
tion  proved  the  truth  of  the  adage  that  all  signs 
fail  in  a  dry  time  by  recording  itself  as  one  of  the 
quietest  and  most  orderly  ever  known  in  the  Sage- 
Brush  State.  A  few  editors  there  were,  like  Blenkin- 
sop,  of  The  Plainsman,  who  maintained  stoutly 
that  it  sounded  the  death-knell  of  the  machine, 
but  there  was  no  gainsaying  the  result.  The  "Para- 
mounters"  ticket,  with  or  without  the  help  of  the 
machine,  was  elected  by  sweeping  majorities  even- 
where;  and  Gantry,  roaming  the  corridors  and  loun- 
ging-rooms  of  the  Railway  Club  and  reading  the 
bulletins  as  they  were  posted,  shook  his  head  despair 
ingly  over  each  fresh  announcement. 

L;.:e  in  the  evening,  finding  that  the  senator's 
party  had  left  the  Inter-Mountain  the  day  before  to 
drive  to  Wartrace,  the  traffic  manager  called  up  the 
Quaretaro  Mesa  country-house  and  poured  the  news 
of  the  dcbadc  into  Evan  Blount's  ear. 

"We've  gone  to  the  everlasting  bow-wows,  and 
Mr.  M;V'ckar  has  disappeared,  and  the  end  of  the 
world  has  come,"  was  the  way  he  phrased  it  for  the 


408    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

listening  ear;  but  the  word  which  came  back  must 
have  been  peculiarly  heartening,  since  from  that  time 
on  to  an  hour  well  past  midnight  Gantry  figured 
hilariously  as  the  self-constituted  host  of  any  and  all 
who  would  be  entertained. 

At  Wartrace  Hall  there  was  also  rejoicing,  albeit 
of  a  quieter  sort.  Five  people  sat  around  the  cheer 
ful  blaze  in  the  library,  and  when  Crowell,  whose 
telegraph  instrument  was  in  the  adjoining  den,  had 
brought  the  final  report  from  the  outlying  wards  of 
the  capital,  he  was  told  to  close  his  key  and  go  to 
bed. 

After  the  young  man  had  withdrawn,  the  Honor 
able  David  rose  to  stand  with  his  back  to  the  fire. 

"Well,  Evan,  boy,  are  all  the  tangles  straightened 
out  for  you  for  keeps,  now?"  he  asked  jovially. 

"  Just  about  all  of  them,  dad,"  laughed  the  younger 
man.  He  had  been  spending  a  very  happy  evening, 
due  less  to  the  triumphant  story  which  had  been 
pouring  in  over  the  wires  than  to  the  fact  that  Pa 
tricia  had  been  occupying  the  other  half  of  the  small 
sofa  which  he  had  dragged  out  to  face  the  fire. 

"Don't  feel  sore  because  you  didn't  get  the 
governor  you  thought  you  were  going  to  get  when 
you  went  around  preaching  the  gospel?"  said  the 
father,  still  chuckling. 

"We've  got  a  better  man  and  a  bigger  one,  I'm 
sure,"  was  the  quick  reply.  Then  he  added:  "But 
I  think  I  am  still  doubtful  about  the  advisability  of 
injecting  the  machine  principle  into  politics." 

The  senator  laughed  silently. 


A   LA   BONNE  HEURE  409 

"Call  it  'the  organization'  instead  of  'the  ma 
chine/  son,  and  youVe  named  the  power  that  moves 
the  civilized  world  to-day.  Man,  the  individual,  is 
just  about  as  helpless  as  a  new-born  baby.  If  you 
want  to  reform  anything,  from  an  unjust  poor-law 
to  the  tariff,  your  first  move  is  to  rustle  up  a  fol 
lowing;  after  that,  youVe  got  to  solidify  your  bunch 
of  sympathizers  into  a  working  organization — in 
other  words,  into  a  machine.  Isn't  that  so,  Pro 
fessor  Anners?" 

The  white-haired  professor  of  palaeontology  nodded 
sleepily.  He  had  been  dreaming  of  the  Megalosau- 
ridae,  and  had  not  heard  the  question. 

"YouVe  heard  me  called  'the  boss'  from  the  time 
Dick  Gantry  had  his  first  talk  with  you  back  yonder 
in  Massachusetts,"  the  senator  went  on,  turning  again 
to  his  son.  "Call  me  a  man  with  friends  enough  to 
make  me  a  sort  of  foreman  of  round-ups  in  the  old 
home  State,  and  youVe  got  it  about  right.  I  don't 
say  that  I've  always  used  the  power  as  it  ought  to 
be  used;  the  good  Lord  knows,  I'm  no  more  infallible 
than  other  folks.  You've  gone  through  a  heap  of 
trouble  and  worry  because  you  thought,  when  you 
got  ready  to  knock  the  wedge  out  of  the  log,  my 
fingers  were  going  to  get  caught  in  the  split,  along 
with  a  lot  of  others.  That  would  have  been  true 
enough  any  other  year  but  this,  I  reckon,  so  you 
didn't  have  your  fight  and  your  worry  for  nothing. 
I've  bought  and  trafficked  and  bargained  and  com 
promised — I  don't  deny  that — but  only  when  it 
seemed  as  though  the  end  justified  the  means. 


410    THE  HONORABLE  SENATOR  SAGE-BRUSH 

Maybe  the  end  never  does  justify  the  means — I'm 
open  to  conviction  on  that.  But  sometimes  it's 
mighty  easy  to  persuade  yourself  that  it  does." 

It  was  just  here  that  the  professor  awoke  with  a 
start  and  a  snort,  excused  himself  abruptly,  and 
stumped  off  to  bed.  Mrs.  Honoria,  sitting  under  the 
drop-light  and  stitching  patiently  at  her  bit  of 
stretched  linen,  laid  the  tiny  embroidery-hoop  aside, 
signalled  to  her  husband,  and  vanished  in  her  turn. 
A  few  minutes  after  she  had  gone,  the  senator 
crossed  from  his  corner  of  the  fireplace  to  stand 
before  the  two  sitting  on  the  little  sofa. 

"Son,"  he  said  gravely,  "you've  got  your  work 
cut  out  for  you  from  this  on,  and  it's  a  good-sized 
job.  You're  going  to  have  a  string  of  hard  fights, 
one  after  the  other,  and  there'll  be  times  when  you'll 
long  with  all  your  soul  for  some  good,  clean-hearted, 
bright-minded  little  girl  to  go  to  for  comfort  and 
counsel.  Of  course,  I  know  that  Patricia,  here,  has 
another  job,  but— 

The  Honorable  Senator  Sage-Brush  had  been  out 
of  sight  and  hearing  for  five  full  minutes  when  Evan 
Blount  reached  over  and  possessed  himself  of  the 
hand  that  was  shading  a  pair  of  deep-welled  eyes 
from  the  firelight. 

"Last  Sunday  afternoon,  Patricia,  when  I  had 
right  and  reason  and  logic  on  my  side,  your  woman's 
intuition  found  the  truer  path,"  he  said,  in  sober 
humility.  "I  know  I  am  only  one,  and  your  poor 
people  to  whom  you  have  been  planning  to  give 
yourself  are  many;  still,  I  am  selfish  enough  to ' 


A  LA  BONNE  EEURE  411 

She  looked  up  quickly  and  the  deep-welled  eyes 
were  shining. 

"We  can't  learn  everything  all  at  once,  Evan, 
dear,"  she  interrupted,  breaking  in  upon  his  plead 
ing.  "There  was  one  moment  in  that  Sunday  after 
noon  when  I  learned  the  greatest  thing  of  all;  it 
was  the  moment  when  I  saw  the  pine-tree  lying 
across  the  road  and  knew  what  I  should  do,  and  for 
whom  I  should  do  it." 

"I  know,"  he  returned  gently.  "You  learned 
that  love  is  stronger  than  death  or  the  fear  of  death; 
and  that  loyalty  is  greater  than  many  ideals.  You 
heard  what  my  father  said  just  now,  and  it  is  true 
—only  he  didn't  put  it  half  vitally  enough;  I  can't 
walk  in  the  way  he  has  marked  out  for  me  with 
out  you,  Patricia." 

With  a  swift  little  love  impulse  she  lifted  his  hand 
and  pressed  it  to  her  cheek. 

"You  needn't,  Evan,  dear,"  she  said  simply. 

THE    END 


Lynde,   F 

ho 

The  Honor 
Sfige^Brush 

able  Senatoi 

M18056 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


fid* 


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